#they should of left Monty to wander the woods

[littlerainbowsheltie]

“As much as he did that to our sister, he’s still family” Nexus was family and look at what happened

I doubt Lunar will follow down the exact same path they did with Nexus. It’s just interesting how the moment Earth is hurt by either of them, the family stops caring. When they’re having identity problems and their negative emotions give them NSP and they start acting different and the others ignore it till something happens.

Sure, Solar is upset for Lunar now. You saw with Nexus how fast they changed it.

[or13m]

Waking Dream (fnaf) Chapter 011

You were incredibly lucky that Jon and Jessi had vacated the premises by the time you'd made it out of the party room. Although, they probably wouldn't have seen you even if they hadn't left with how quickly you shot through the halls in search of your elusive prey.

You didn't bother to see if the daycare attendant was in pursuit of you or not. You were much too busy trying to map out the giant megamall to remember where the offices were. That was the one area that both Sun and Moon had shown you--on a map and in person, respectively--in order to prevent you from ever going near them. The other animatronics had their own rooms, but they tended to wander around. The big boss apparently liked to stick to his office, even eating and sleeping there. It may be nearing 2 in the morning, but you were banking on Moon's depiction of the insomniac to still be there.

You were horrible with directions so it took you longer than you'd ever admit to, but...

You burst through the door that was proudly embossed with the new owner's name, wincing as the wood slammed into the wall before bouncing back. Maybe you needed to practice the amount of force you applied? Eh, it was an emergency so they should let this slide, right? Splinters of wood or no...

"Monty?! I told you--!" a familiar voice began but cut itself off when its owner actually looked towards the doorway.

And saw you.

"You're not an alligator..."

"Uh, no?" you affirmed, albeit confused. Did he regularly break things? You knew Moon had issues with the gator, but the naptime bot seemed to have problems with everyone.

"Who are you and how did you get into my plex?" Peter got to his feet, standing tall and proud as he made his way around the giant desk at the back of the room. You barely got a chance to glance around at all the mess of parts, computer monitors, and piles of paper spread all over before he was stalking his way towards you. You flinched at his approach before steeling yourself, non-existent heart hammering in your chest.

He abruptly stopped, losing his stoic guard when his brown eye fell to your neck. Your jaw tightened, well-aware that he was staring at what Foxy had called your "death mark". Exactly as the name described, it was a black ring around the neck of the dead or dying. Why it existed was beyond the understanding of even the three ais you'd come to befriend. You hadn't even known it existed until they'd said something about it so your knowledge on the subject was absolute zero.

You relaxed only when Peter's expression softened and he no longer looked like he wanted to pick you up and yeet you into the parking lot.

"Alright," he sighed, as if this was an everyday occurrence for him. "You don't look like a kid so how'd you get here?" He peered down at you, his messy brown hair obscuring one of his eyes from your sight.

Now that you were face to face with him, you were struck by a strange sense of deja vu...

"Oh!" You perked up, filing away that curiosity for a later date. There was a very urgent matter to deal with first! "Uh, Moon! Sun? Um, something's wrong with them? Can you...help, please?"

Well, that didn't go quite as you had planned. Bursting into the office with a confidence that you most certainly didn't have had left you with very little time to figure out how to word the problem at hand to what you hoped and prayed was the mechanic. Foxy had said that it had been PETER who had saved them so you naturally assumed that meant he had been the one to fix them.

"Aaaalright," the man relented, quirking a brow but not questioning your urgency. "Can you describe what happened?"

As you explained to the best of your ability, Peter went around and gathered up the equipment he figured he would need. He paused in the middle of picking up a pile of cables before depositing them into a messenger bag when the image you were painting seemed awfully reminiscent.

"That sounds like the virus, but I swear that I got rid of it..." he mumbled to himself, twisting one of the rings on his fingers as he considered what you'd told him. Something must have occurred to him because he suddenly turned to you. "Wait, you said that they were BOTH talking to you?"

At your nod, he hummed and tossed a small tablet into his bag rather than the chunky laptop he had been reaching for. "Did their coloring change? Or just Moon's eyes?"

"Uh, I think Moonie's white may have changed a little, but it was hard to see..." you relented, before snapping to attention. "Oh! Sun's rays peeked out a little! Not more than an inch, but..." you trailed off, thinking back on how odd that had been now that you had time to reflect. It wasn't as if your brain had been focusing on those slight changes. Your friends' erratic behavior and uncharacteristic demeanor had taken center stage, not their physical appearance.

"Huh," was all the brunette said before shouldering his bag of gear and heading out the door. "Follow me."

You scrambled after him at the order, opting to walk like a  normal person rather than fly around and waste any more energy. You were still shivering with nerves, Sun and Moon being all you could think about. Guilt was already creeping in on the edge of your mind. No doubt, your yelling at them like that had pushed them over the edge. You just hoped that Peter could pull them back...

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Whump 14

Despite what many people- well, mainly Eclipse- assumed, Lunar wasn’t stupid. He’s just a special person who does some stupid things sometimes. 

But right now? He was really, really stupid. Lunar hadn’t meant for it to happen! He and his brother had been arguing, and he got so mad that he just.. lashed out and threw what he was holding. Hitting Eclipse directly in the face. Which would be bad on it’s own, but was made worse by the fact that the thing he threw at him was the one barrel disguised as a TASER.

He didn’t stay long enough to see his reaction, booking it out of the daycare as fast as he could go. He hadn’t even bothered to turn off the glowing when he burst through the large faux wooden doors, beelining straight for the exit.

Lunar wasn’t sure where he would be able to go. He could count the number of times he left the daycare on one hand, even navigating the large mall itself proved to be a challenge. But he couldn’t go back, that’s for sure. At least not until Eclipse has calmed down a bit. Maybe he could return to that pretty place in the woods he met Monty at? That place was nice!

Slipping into the lobby, his rapid footsteps start to slow down slightly. He’s not used to running for this long, and his head is pounding. He feels sick, with fear or exhaustion he isn’t sure. Either way he can’t run forever. Luckily he does have a fairly big head start, so it should be enough. If he can find his way to the exit, that is.

He kneads the soft pom pom on the end of his hood in his hands, glancing around the large open space. Normally when he’s walking around Eclipse is with him, it feels strange to be navigating alone... After a bit of aimless wandering, Lunar manages to find several large glass doors. He beams, slightly proud of himself for being able to find the exit, all by himself too! 

He walks toward the doors only to collide with it before he even reaches the door. But, that doesn’t make sense? He always uses these doors! So why can’t he even get near them right now? Lunar helped Eclipse move a bunch of boxes earlier, and it worked- then...

Lunar whimpers, clutching the pom pom tightly. He’s such an idiot. Of course Eclipse wouldn’t let him leave without him! He didn’t know whether he wanted to scream or cry. This is so unfair! He didn’t mean to hurt him, but he knew reasoning with Eclipse wasn’t going to work. It never did. No matter what he did, he couldn’t push through the stupid invisible barrier! The more he tried the more frustrated he got until he, reluctantly, gave up. Sliding down to the floor with his back to the stupid wall, he curls up on himself, pulling the hood tight around him shielding his face from sight. He was glad Eclipse wasn’t here yet; Seeing him crying would only make him more mad.

He doesn’t know how long he cried for, but after what felt like ages the soft thudding of footsteps broke him out of his thoughts. Lunar curled up tighter, not wanting to see his brother scowling, eyes cold and so angry. Oh he hates seeing him angry!

“Lunar. Get up.”

Lunar shook his head, squeaking out a small but defiant, “No-No.”

Eclipse scowls, stomping up to his brothers trembling form and yanks his head up by the hat drawing a shrill yelp from him. He stared up at him with wide eyes, trying to hold together his composure despite his fear being clear. Trying to let his anger through instead, his frustration. Because he was so frustrated.

“We’re going back to the daycare. Now.” It wasn’t a question and they both knew it. Without waiting for an answer, Eclipse pulls Lunar to his feet, almost knocking him to the floor in the process. He doesn’t slow down for a second, practically dragging him across the floor. 

Pain flares up in his neck from the harsh yanks, but he can barely focus on that. He’s stuck here. He messed up, and he’s going to pay for it. One way or another.

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 16: Jasper/Monty, Why?

Heeeeey yeah sometimes I write.

Southern Gothic fic universe, aka, part of devil’s gonna get me one of these days

Jasper/Monty

~1,000 words

Written in about 45 minutes

*

"Why do we do it?" Monty asks, sober, but thoughtful, as he stands at the kitchen counter and chops up vegetables from their garden. He's wearing a silly-looking apron with red frills, which Jasper got him at a thrift store once as a joke. But after all this time, it suits him. The window over the sink has been left open just a crack, and through it the softness of a warm, pink spring evening floats in, scented with new blooming flowers and the spiky undertones of fast-lengthening grass. The light filters in pink and gentle, too, on a lingering dusk. Jasper watches the deft and familiar movements of Monty's fingers, half-caught in shadow, half-glinting in the soft light, listens to the rhythm of the knife against the cutting board, and thinks, yeah, he loves him best like this.

At the question, Jasper leans all the way back in his chair, until its front legs leave the floor and the back hits up against the stove. The clang disrupts the other sounds, the shimmer of the bugs in the garden and the knife against the board, but only for a moment, and when Jasper hums the deep thrum shuffles in easy with all the rest. It's a good question. The only question that matters, or at least the only one that will matter, someday.

Why?

A question for the history books.

Money—that's the easy answer. The money to escape their parents' homes. The money Miller slips away to them in secret, and that they hide in the safe among the dust bunnies under Jasper's bed. Not enough to do anything real with, not build-a-new-life money but it's something. Even the thought of it glows warm in him some nights, when he thinks he'll never have to rely on anyone else for security again.

So maybe it's not the money, but the safety of the money, the independence of the money. After they pay their bills, he rarely thinks of it. He's not greedy for it. The first time they thumbed their way through a stack of twenties, joked about the size of it, smaller than they'd imagined, how they should have gotten it in ones or maybe just a bunch of heavy, gleaming coins, he felt a small thrill. And the way Monty's eyes grew wide and his dirty fingers flickered through the stack again, counting in thin whispers under his breath—a bigger thrill.

But even then, he'd known to pick apart the feeling of greed from the rest. Dax is greedy. Bellamy, sometimes, is greedy, though he'd never say the word. Miller and Emori and Murphy are in it for the satisfaction of the steal and the rotten fuck-you feeling of it, swipe and rob and pilfer because they've been angry too long and because they deserve this and because they can.

Because we can, he almost answers. That's always been their reason, hasn't it? To prove that they can and then to revel in it.

"I used to think it was because we were bored," Monty says, when Jasper doesn't answer, and slides the neat carrot slices decisively into a bowl. Then he reaches for another, and for a moment he glances up and over his shoulder, and meets Jasper's eye with an expression almost of guilt.

"Smartest kids in school," Jasper murmurs.

He understands now that Monty isn't talking about the thieving anymore. He never was.

That query is both simpler and more difficult, because he cannot pinpoint anymore when it began: rhymes they learned on the playground, talismans they found in the woods, eyes peering out at them from the shadows of the mountains and the ghost-breath of wandering tendrils of mist after a hard rain, and the whistling they heard, while they held their breath, standing quiet and still in the graveyard out by the old church. Or the first time they shared a joint, offered by one of Monty's cousins on the Fourth of July, while they out in the cool shade by the entrance to the cellar and the younger cousins yelled and laughed and the sprinklers hissed and spit in the neighbor's lawn. They were thirteen then, and Jasper kept a collection of smooth worn stones in his pockets, for luck, and Monty kept a list of superstitions in a notebook in his room. Their mouths full of smoke, they knew that everything they couldn't see was real, and everything they saw was mutable and temporary as shifting clouds before rain.

"I always felt," Jasper adds, now, "that we didn't just know faster than the others, but we knew more."

"Of course," Monty answers.

Hubris. Is that his answer? Why—well—because we knew we could. Curious and confident, until curiosity becomes a sort of lit fuse, burning itself up and he follows and follows, not wanting to lose sight—

Why?

"Did you want—" He starts, and when the words choke off and no more come, Monty turns around to face him, wiping the pulpy guts of a clean-sliced tomato from his fingers. As a kid, he was always so impatient, but gardening has taught him a certitude in waiting.

"Did you want to possess it?" Jasper asks. His voice comes out smaller than he'd intended. Spindle cracks form down the middle of it. "Or just to know?"

Because that is greed again: greed, gnawing greed, wanting more and more just to satiate an instinct you can no longer describe--greed for money and for power too, which might be called safety or independence or even moral right, but it's all greed. It's all the same lit fuse.

Still he lets out a long, slow breath when Monty says, "To know."

To know what's out there, the soft sighs in the quiet, the lights in the empty house, the crackling of unseen branches in the woods, the animals who haunt his dreams, the destination of the river.

He's felt power and he's felt knowledge too. The one has no meaning without the other.

Jasper lets his chair fall forward on the floor again, then reaches out and grabs for Monty's hands and pulls him close. He tilts his head back so Monty can see the way the overhead light gleams in his eyes, as outside the shadows fall darker and the pink-gold of dusk deepens and cools, and night thickens over the garden, and the dark and chill of seep into the room. He squeezes Monty's hands tight. "I think we do it," he says, and without meaning to he lets the Reverend's words flow through him, as if despite the curl of his lips he believed them, too, "because we're a little wicked, aren't we?"

[verecunda]

First line meme

Tagged by @bryndeavour. Thankee, lovely! :) I can’t remember how long it’s been since the last time I did this one, so apologies in advance for any overlap.

Rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag your friends.

The Wealth of Memory (LOTR & Silm, Gimli & Legolas & Finrod, G) The woods beyond Tirion were more ancient than any in Middle-earth.

Between the Desert and the Wood (Silm, Beren/Lúthien, G) South of the Pass of Sirion, the land became once more fair and green, rising upon gentle hills cloaked with shady woods, or falling into sheltered vales through which numberless streams and rivers flowed in search of great Sirion on its long course to the sea.

Above Hoarded Gold (The Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo, G) “I must say you’re looking very well, laddie. Very settled.”

The Queen of Lost Hopes (Silm, Tar-Míriel, G) She had tended the Tree with her father, her soft baby hands pattering in the earth about its roots while he did the true work; and she had sat with him beneath its boughs at twilight, and he told her all the lore of the West while the blossoms breathed out their fragrance.

Such Companions (LOTR, Legolas/Gimli, T) When he first met the elven princeling at Master Elrond’s council, Gimli’s opinion was staunchly with his father — indignation that the wretched creature Gollum should have been afforded more comfort and kindness by the Wood-elves than his own folk, and scorn for the poor watch they had kept upon him.

Hand in Glove Together (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Bofur, G) Bofur was as disgruntled as the rest of them at being confined to Bard’s house.

The Changing Season (The Hobbit, Sigrid/Tauriel, G) Sigrid really had no intention of eavesdropping on anybody.

Under One Man’s Awe (Rome HBO, Caesar/Brutus, E) The performance their host had arranged was like all the others that had gone before: pleasing in its low, unsophisticated fashion, quaint in its open sycophancy, its sentiments so obvious one might as well be coshed over the head with them.

On the Took Side (The Hobbit, rule 63!Bilbo & Company, G) The knocking came like an omen out of an old story: three great hammer-blows that rang throughout Bag End and cut short all the raucous Dwarvish merriment of just a moment before.

Splitting Hairs (The Hobbit, rule 63!Bilbo & Company, G) They had left the rain behind at long last, and as the land began to rise, the clouds broke up, the sun came out, and all about them were revealed waves of green downland, lush and velvety where the wind rippled the long grass.

Yet Feet That Wandering Have Gone (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Bofur, T) A light breath of wind stirred the curtains at the open bedroom window, rich with the scents of clover and honeysuckle.

Like Calling to Like (The Eagle, Marcus/Esca, G) He had told Marcus Aquila he hated him.

A Binding Vow (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin, G) “I’m sure I look ridiculous,” muttered Bilbo.

Sword Sleep (LOTR, Éowyn, G) Many long years her father’s sword had slept soundly in the chest in her bower, wrapped in an old mantle of her mother’s.

Flagons and Forfeits (LOTR, Legolas/Gimli, G) Strong and doughty the Men of Rohan may be, but it still took three of them to lift Gimli and bear him away from the bench.

Safe Passage (Monty Python, Scotsman on a Horse/Betrothed Scotsman, G) Many still tell the tale of how Mungo MacEachern carried off Lachlan MacShoogle on the day of his wedding.

Encore (Final Fantasy IX, Kuja, G) “Humbled” was not a word, or indeed a feeling, with which Kuja had been overly familiar before.

With Eyes to See (LOTR, Frodo/Sam & Bilbo, G) “He has suffered grievously by this wound.”

Private Devotions (Frontier Wolf, Alexios/Lucius, G) That first winter in Belgica gave them all cause for reflection.

A Parting Gift (The Uninvited, Rick, Stella, Pamela & Dr. Scott, G) “You know,” said Roderick, “I could have sworn this room was supposed to be my private sanctum.” Quite a mixed bag! Any patterns? Uhhh... I suppose, looking over this, I tend to go for openings that set the scene in some way, whether that’s describing the physical setting, or outlining the characters’ situation. And apparently, if I do start a fic in media res, I’m quite likely to start with dialogue. Huh. There you go.

Tagging: @di-daydreamer, @pudentilla, @nocompromise-noregrets, @chiropteracupola, @southfarthing, @thebeautifulsoup

[angelicichor]

Since I’m in the mood for angst - let’s go.

Slashers dealing with their S/O having a mental break down because hell knows I need it.

TW: hysteria, mental trauma, mental break down (obviously), abuse, paranoia

Jason Voorhees:

♦ It was becoming so cold outside, way colder than it has ever been in the city, the wind howled outside, making you aware of just how alone you were in this very moment.

♦ Jason was still outside, hunting a pair of drug dealers that wanted to make the old camp ground their hideout for the season, you heard gunshots and that was probably why it was taking so long.

♦  Guns couldn’t kill your zombie, but sure as hell made his job this much harder to complete, especially if they hit his head.

♦ You knew that he would come back any time soon, yet your body shivered even with the fire still burning strong in it’s stone nest. The old wood around you creaked, groaned, like an old man, it’s bones threatening to crumble under any pressure.

♦ And you gasped, shivering at the thought of this whole thing caving in on you, burying you under the rubble, splinters adding to your pain as you drawled your last breath.

♦ It wouldn’t fall and even if it did, Jason was close enough to get you out of the ruins before you died. At least you tried to assure yourself that he was and that he wouldn’t even need to, a nervous laughter escaping your clenched throat.

♦ You were alone.

♦ Alone and scared.

♦ Like all those helpless nights at your home, trapped in your room, too afraid to move from it, still hearing the thuds and screams of your family arguing, your eyes red from tears, panic building in your tiny heart.

♦ And there was nobody to cry to. No one would help you.

♦ Your breathing hiked as you clenched the soft material of your sweater, similar to the one Jason put at Pamela's shrine.

♦ She died alone too, was she as scared as you were this night?

♦ Your body shook, mind going hazy, trying to remember the mantra of “I’m fine, he’s going to come back, I’m loved, there’s nothing to fear.” until it broke.

♦ You weren’t fine, you were alone in an empty old house, surrounded by the roaring of an incoming storm, and the man who was supposed to be with you tonight was bleeding far from you, struggling to murder people, who wandered where they shouldn’t have and you were pissed. Not at Jason, never at him, but at those two men. It was their fault you were so scared, left without comfort.

♦ Or was it your fault for being too weak to handle some stronger wind? It was that, wasn’t it?

♦ “Oh god...” you whimpered, feeling your heart rise to your throat, unsure of why it wandered there anyways, it should be in your chest. “No, no. “ There was this familiar feeling of anxiety building up where your heart was before, as if it moving opened a door for something buried deep inside. “Please...” and when the tears rolled down your cheeks it was already too late.

♦ Three times you breathed, each time more encumbered, suffocating on air that was supposed to bring you life, your face flooding with the saltiness that your eyes produced in overabundance. Your hands shook and you could focus only on that, all your emotions becoming a blur, a swirling mess in your overstimulated brain.

♦ It wasn’t a quiet night, yet everything seemed to still when a tormented shriek left your mouth. A noise that you couldn’t hear, not anymore, lost in the newly found panic.

♦ Your eyes were wide open, but you saw nothing, every new memory your senses tried to create vanishing in milliseconds. Your own body shutting down, making you unaware of the humongous figure that kicked the door in, entering in a hurry.

♦ The throat that usually let you speak fluently was collapsing, only letting small groans and quieter shrieks leave, and you placed your hands on it, gasping for air, trying to fight the thing choking you, oblivious to the fact it was your mind refusing to calm your self down. 

♦ There was a sudden pressure on your shoulders and you shut your swollen eyelids, kicking and screaming at whatever was trying to hold you down, each thrust meeting with something hard and solid.

♦ Then you were forced onto the bed, the same thing that was holding you down now wrapping all around you, refusing to budge despite your nails digging into it, something warm covering your agitated fingers. Panicking as something lowered itself next to your head with a pained groan.

♦ And finally your movements slowed, your suffocating lungs bursting with a sudden surge of air, eyes lazily regaining focus, making your head ache with the flood of information your brain was collecting again. Just as quickly as it began, it was over and you whimpered softly, tired hands flopping down from whatever it was that they were elevated on

♦ Another whimper and one moan of confusion as you let your palms cover your eyes and massage the exhausted skin around them. The thing on you expanding and shrinking dreadfully slow.

♦ You looked up to see what in the hell it was. Your heart shattered.

♦ Jason’s bright eye was looking down at you, his crooked lips quivering in fear, hairless brow furrowed, huge hands reaching up to your visage, a terrified smile rising on his own as he realized that you can finally see him. He was shaking. Trembling as he lowered himself onto you, making it hard to breathe once more, but this time it was a welcome sensation. 

♦ A soft whimper echoed in your head, coming from the undead relaxing onto you, as you look at your still warm finger tips, blood drying on them, just how it was on his neck and back from wounds that you opened.

♦ The realization that hit you couldn’t be more heartbreaking, as you understood what happened piece by piece.

♦ You blacked out in panic, screamed and he heard you, he came to you and was welcomed by your own self clawing at your now red forearms, so he tried to stop you the only way he knew how to, sacrificing himself so you would be fine. 

♦ “ Oh, Jason.” you whispered, your palms finding his bald, uneven head. He shook slightly with a sharp intake of air. “ I am SO sorry, oh my darling.” a cry escaped you, the salty trails returning, but he was much the same, trembling and swallowing his own quiet cry.

♦ His hands tightened around your waist and you curled up to sit and hug his sobbing head, shielding his exposed face from the world around him.

♦ “I was... Jason I am so... I’m horrible, this must’ve been so scary...” you whimper and he shakes his head almost aggressively, glad that you’re fine now, that you calmed down and that he could’ve been there to help you, that he was useful to you in at least this way.

♦ “God, I love you so much. Please forgive me.” His breath shakes at your self-flagellating words and he rises, love and worry mixing on his face as he coups your own, leaning in to kiss your pouting lips, you returning his soft comfort in kind.

♦   Don’t even try to thank him, this is the least he can do for you, to somehow repay you for loving him, despite his disgusting face and his uncomfortable silence.

♦ Both of you were shivering in each other’s arms, unable to voice how precious you were, how much you loved every single thing about each other, a pair of idiots, fools in love.

Thomas Hewitt:

♦ Not every day in the Hewitt’s house was good, you knew that. Your first day there, for example, was terrifying to say the least and life changing to be an optimist about the disaster that was your initiation into the family, not as a member yet, but as a honored quest. 

♦ So yes, not everything was always perfect, Luda Mae could sometimes be a nag and Monty was a pervert to say the least. Thomas turned out to be an absolute angel though, or a very polite devil if you considered some situations, pulling away at his dark feathers.

♦ But Charlie, no, Hoyt, oh Hoyt. He was something else, alright.

♦ You’ve grown used to him bossing everybody around, crowning himself the man of the house, even though that tittle should be rightfully given to Thomas.

♦ But there was one thing that you couldn’t get used to, a nasty quirk, bringing back way too many unwanted memories, flashes of the past that you swore you had repressed strong enough to never meet with again.

♦ That gross, old, saggy ball sack was one hell of an abuser.

♦ Everybody else in the house was aware of your bad mood these past few days, even Monty, that bastard, that son of a gun, had brought you tea on multiple occasions, knowing it calmed your nerves ever so slightly.

♦ But Charlie was oblivious to anyone’s problem, but his own.

♦ And he had a problem, alright. The problem with “YOU BEING A FAT, LAZY BITCH THAT CAN’T EVEN BRING A MAN THE RIGHT FUCKING BELT!”, as he roared in your ear way too loudly, gaining him the attention of other co-habitats.

♦ “Charlie!” Luda wanted to stop his words, but it was already too late, his motor has started. 

♦ “Don’t CHARLIE me! I’m sick and tired of this WHORE slacking off and just slumping around all damned day! Tell ya what, sweetie.” he spat through his teeth, poking you in the shoulder, hard enough for it too hurt. “If not for our boy, I’d have you made into a delicious batch of Lard, since that’s what you already fukin’ are! A dumb lard ass!” he growled, this time shoving you back.

♦ “God damn it, Charlie! Leave the poor girl alone!” the old woman pressed him, but he just waved her off, crossing his veiny arms under his non-existent pecs.

♦ “A GOOD FOR NOTHING!” his voice echoed in your head. “STUPID, DISRESPECTFUL!” Another whispered a scream much similar from the back of your head. “LAZY PIG!” Hoyt’s voice sounded again in a snarl. “FUCKING RETARDED IDIOT!” the same one called back in your mind, this time closer.

♦ “SHOULDA KILLED YA THE FIRST CHANCE I GOT!” The oldest Hewitt roared and again the voice in your head was anxious to answer. “A WASTE OF LIFE AND NOTHING MORE!” 

♦ And with that the thin string in your brain snapped, letting a horde of unwanted demons out and about your mind, your eyes shooting up to meet Hoyt’s something in the way you gazed making him catch whatever words were trying to roll off his tongue, his wrinkly head tilting and shaggy gray brows furrowing in a silent question, letting his bewilderment show.

♦ “shut up...” you let out a sigh, shoulders tensing, backed against an ancient wall. The sheriff’s eyes widening in rage.

♦ “Whadya say to me, ya little shit?” he growled and you let your vision coat in red, letting rage triumph against other emotions.

♦ “ I said, shut. The. FUCK! UP!” You screamed in his face, grabbing the unplugged lamp on the stool next to you and smashing it against his head, making him tumble at the sudden impact, Luda Mae and Monty gasping and groaning, you weren’t sure which one did which. “You fucker... you piece of shit, disgusting asshole.” words flew out of your mouth in abundance, tone shifting between a whisper and rage-full roars, hands shaking with the offending item still in your grip, a crooked smile erupting on your face as you noticed the sudden fear in the old man’s eyes. “You boss us all around like you’re tough shit but without us ya’d be nothing!” you hiss, stepping towards him, holding the lamp in both hands, smashing it against his covering arm, shattering the glass of the bulb. “YOU DISGUST ME!” you scream, body read to fall on top of him and smash the object against his face.

♦ “(Y/N)!! Child, stop! Oh God!” Luda Mae cried out and you looked towards her, your brain giving you a moment of clarity, stopping your movements so you could consider what was happening and you were about to listen, when Hoyt heard a heavy thud enter the room.

♦ “TOMMY, GET YOUR CRAZIED BITCH OFF ME RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” The wannabe officer screamed, pulling you back into that frenzied state, the lamp closing down on his throat in rapid speed.

♦ “FUCKING DIE YOU ASSHOLE!” you cried, expecting blood to gush onto your countenance after tears blurred your vision fully, fighting against the wave of bad remembrances that this man brought upon you, but nothing happened.

♦ Instead your arm was caught into an iron shackle and your whole body flew against something hard, huge and moving, breathing rapidly, unevenly, in a panic. “Let me go...” you whispered, eyes regaining focus for a second, still filled with that familiar bloodlust, but the wall behind you still breathed, unwilling to let you lash out. “THOMAS GODDAMIT LET ME GO!” you roared, your brain recognizing the Behemoth by his smell and presence, as well as the lingering threat of iron that always followed wherever he went. The scent of blood.

♦ Hoyt had gotten up and was sneering at you, only fueling your fire. “Good, damn it Tommy, that whore almost cut my thr--” A thundering hit shook the room, moving the air and silencing the old bastard, who followed it to it’s source, Thomas’ fist and a new hole in the wooden wall. “What in tarnation...?” The sheriff breathed and once his met the piercing gaze of the dark haired man, only fear remained on his pale face. The youngest Hewitt’s rage silencing everybody, even you, as you let your head hang, no longer struggling against your lover’s hold.

♦ Then came a voice, but one that nobody expected to hear, rasping, struggled, low, a growl of an agitated beast. “LE--AVE...” Thomas managed to order, his eyes predatory and body protective, throat already hurting for forcing the letters out. 

♦ There was a hesitance to Hoyt’s response, but soon enough he left the scene, breathing curses under his nose, going god knows where. Reading the room, Luda Mae took the handles of Monty’s wheelchair and rolled out of the house’s heart quietly, leaving the two of you alone, listening for the second click of the door, announcing their leave. 

♦ The moment that happens, you’re being forcefully turned around and with a loud thud one of Thomas’ knees hit the wooden floor, his large frame kneeling before you, sharp, angry eyes focused on you as you try to look away, one strong hand gripping against your jaw to turn you towards him.

♦ And you do, tears storming out of the corners of your eyes, everything in your stance pointing to anxious anger and fear.

♦ He never manhandled you like that, it wasn’t needed, but attacking his family, even IF it was just Hoyt, was the line that you should never cross.

♦ “Let me go, Tom.” you sneer through your teeth, still shaking and sobbing, he only gives you a shake of his head and his other hand finds it’s place on your shoulder, gripping enough to bruise as the man forgets to check his own strength, too focused on the alien emotion behind your eyes.

♦ “LET ME GO!” you roar, flinching from pain, but he still refuses, the pressure forcing you to fall onto him and you realize you’ve been struggling against his pull. “Thomas!” you cry, tugging on his shirt around his broad back, his grip loosening and now a palm pressing you into him, silently telling you to calm down. A hiccup escapes you, body trembling, as rage fades into sadness and that bring forth clarity, that then turns to fear as the realization of your actions hits you like an arrow to the neck and you suffocate in it, pulling, whimpering and nuzzling into the giant holding you safe, telling you it’s fine without words, letting his relaxed body speak for him, already understanding what happened, he was a very good listener and your breath told him everything.

♦ You’ve told him before about your life, about your father’s abuse and how those harsh words could bring something dark out from inside you, that you were sent away to your grandmother for it and how it haunted you every night, your gasps of terror waking him up every time to hush your sleeping self, not even aware you needed him.

♦ This time was no different and you relaxed under his touch, one of his hands petting your messed up hair and the other holding your waist, gently, as if you could shatter under the lightest of his touches.

♦ He knew Hoyt was horrible for you, brought up those dark memories and that he should’ve been there the moment he heard his scream, stop him before all this happened, but he was busy with the last victims, a useless excuse that brought only guilt and shame to the pit of his stomach.

♦ “I’m sorry, Tommy...” your words met with a small nod from him, his heavy breath pointing that he understood. His own rage was too much sometimes, but he’d only ever lash out on the victims or himself, the many scars on his body being proof of that, but he’d never tell anybody, it’s better that people thought it was from the meat’s struggle to remain human.

♦ “I just... I hate him so much... He’s just like...” he made a hushing sound, shifting you slightly, one of his arms moving beneath your buttocks, and lifting you up, as the other still held your head, pulling it gently towards his face, planting a soft kiss into your forehead, the leather of his mask scratching you slightly, but you didn’t care, whimpering at the softness of his touch.

♦ He brought you upstairs to your room, sitting onto your bed and only then letting you off him, to fall onto the soft covers, hugging into them instead in instinct. Thomas stayed a while longer, letting his thick fingers run through your hair, his thumb collecting your falling tears occasionally, a low humming sound resonating in his chest while he waited for you to switch off fully, sinnging his mother’s lullably in the only way his body allowed him to.

♦ Then at no less than 10 minutes of attending your need for comfort, he stood up, looking down at the hand that shoot up to his in desperate fear and he smiled, slipping it off lazily, kneeling down to brush a lock of hair from your image and planting a kiss on your nose, before standing back up and signing to you in his own way, that he’d be back soon.

♦ “Okay... I’ll wait for you.” your voice croaked, tired from everything that happened and he huffed in approval, closing your door behind him.

♦ Now he had an old man that needed to be taught some god damned MANNERS.

♦ For once Thomas would be the one to teach somebody discipline in this house and he knew damn well that he didn’t even need to use violence to achieve that.

♦ Hoyt was a pussy, after all.

This turned out so long oh my gosh ;; I wanted to do Michael and Bubba too, but that would be too much for me right now. Maybe later if anybody wants that.

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago: 01. The Ground

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it.

Post Date: 04.06.20

Word count: 2.9k

Based off: 01x01 “Pilot”

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

00. The Skybox (recommend reading before this part)

 Masterlist

You were sitting on your bed reading a book that was left to you from your parents. Council member Marcus Kane, visited each month to bring you one as well as try to get to know you better. All of a sudden your cell door opens and two guards walk in.

“Prisoner 445, move to the wall,” One of the guards said to you.

“I don’t get reviewed for another 2 days,” You say moving, not wanting to get shocked.

They stick a silver wristband on your right wrist and start to push you out of your cell. As you are escorted out, you notice all of the teenagers getting moved from their cells. A few doors down from your own you see Abby Griffin talking with her daughter, Clarke Griffin. You overhear something about the earth but was dragged away before you could hear anymore. The guards take you into a Dropship of some sort and force you into a seat. You watch as all the kids were forced to sit in their seats, a few fighting back. 

“Hi! I’m Octavia Blake.” The brown-haired girl said as she was sat next to you. 

“Y/N Y/L/N. What were you put away for?” You ask her. 

Octavia is silent for a bit before she talks, “I was born. You?”

“Stealing extra medicine for my mom when she was sick and assaulting a guard,” You respond, even though that was slightly a lie. Soon enough you felt the jolt as the ship undocked from the Ark and a video of Chancellor Jaha explaining what’s happening appeared on the screens around the Dropship. You look over to see a kid floating around.

“Spacewalk bandit strikes again,” A kid somewhere on the ship yells. And many others yelling words of encouragement to the kid known as Finn.

"How are we supposed to survive with this stupidity,” You scoff, turning to Octavia. She just shrugs back in response. All of a sudden even louder crashes started coming from the Dropship and then nothing.

“Listen. No machine hum.” A kid from behind says. We all start unbuckling from our seats and head down to the lower level. As you’re climbing down from the ladder you see Clarke, Octavia and a tall dark-haired guy in a guard uniform, talking by the door. 

“Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in a year” Octavia states to Clarke. You jump down from the ladder but can’t see anything so you push yourself to the front. The next thing you know, Octavia’s brother opens the gate, flooding a bright blinding light into the Dropship. Octavia jumps onto the ground, taking a deep breath of the fresh earth air and screams “We’re back bitches!” And everyone starts running out into the lush green forest.

When you imagined earth, you thought of a grey and brown desolate area, not a green paradise. You never imagined in your lifetime that you would be on earth, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on your skin, the grittiness of the dirt under your feet and the wind through your hair. You walked around touching the plants that scattered the ground, not wanting this feeling of euphoria to end.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life, ” You say walking up to Clarke. She picks up a map and walks over to a clearing.

“What’s up?” You ask following her but getting no response.

“Why so serious, Princess? It’s not like we died in a fiery explosion. Y/N.” You hear a voice behind you say. 

“Try telling that to the two guys who tried to follow you out of their seats” Clarke snaps back.

You just looked at Finn shrugging and began to tune them out and just take in the scenery. When you tune back into their conversation, you hear Clarke mention that we were nowhere near Mount Weather, which is where we were supposed to be dropped. 

“So we have a radiation-soaked forest between us and our next meal, huh?” You respond looking at the mountain in the distance.

“Yep, they dropped us on the wrong damn mountain” Clarke responds. You walk back to the Dropship with Clarke but instead of worrying about what to do next and wander over to Octavia.

“Oh, Bell this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Bellamy. My brother” Octavia says happily.

“I’ve heard so much about you. Or at least the rumors. Nice to meet you.” Bellamy introduces himself.

“Well, I haven’t heard much about you,” You say looking at Octavia, even though you just met her and her brother. “But it’s nice to meet you.” you laugh. Bellamy starts to pay attention to the conversation going on between Clarke and Wells. 

“We’re on the ground. That’s not good enough for you?” He interrupts.

“We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father’s message. That has to be our first priority.” Wells states.

“Screw your father. What, you think you’re in charge here, you and your little Princess?” Octavia taunts shifting her eyes over to Clarke.

“Come on, let’s just enjoy our freedom first. Then we can go to Mount Weather and get supplies.” You say trying to not take sides. 

Clarke tries to convince the other kids to agree with her to go and get supplies but Bellamy says that Clarke and Wells should go as they are privileged. You’re surprised that he doesn’t mention you since your father was a Council member. But you guess that since you were locked up so long, you weren’t considered privileged anymore. Many of the kids around you agree with Bellamy. The kid Murphy starts to pick a fight with Wells for trying to tell everyone to go to Mount Weather. But Finn gets between them in order to give Wells a fair fight or to stop things from getting out of hands. 

“Just leave it, Murphy, we don’t need your shit,” You snark from the sidelines. He tries to go for you but Finn stops him from leaping towards you. Murphy pushes Finn off of him and walks away. You start to bring things from the Dropship outside but get distracted by the conversation going on between Clarke and Finn about taking the wristbands off. 

“Hey Octavia, be careful out there,” You tell her. She looks back and nods to you before she walks off with Clarke, Finn, Monty, and Jasper. You continue to unpack items from the Dropship until Bellamy walks up to you.

“Hey, you should relax and enjoy this. Like you said.” He says behind you.

“I’ll enjoy this, even more, when I have a semi-comfortable place to sleep,” You state looking back at him and walking back to the Dropship.

“You’ve got a point,” He follows you. When you get close enough you notice writing on the Dropship “First Son, First to dye”. You laugh at the spelling, even though you were locked up for so long you knew it was spelled wrong. Wells drops some wood down as Murphy starts to converse with him. Wells walks away purposely bumping into Murphy’s shoulder as you and Bellamy get to the Dropship.

“If you’re gonna kill someone, it’s probably best not to announce it,” Bellamy remarks from your side, you snicker.

“You’re not really a member of the guard, are you?” Murphy questions Bellamy.

“No. The real guard will be here soon unless we stop it. You don’t actually think they’re gonna forgive your crimes. Even if they do, then what? Guys like us, we’re gonna become model citizens now, get jobs. If we’re lucky, maybe pick up their trash?” He responds.

“You got a point?” Murphy’s little sidekick, John Mbege, questions.

“Well, why help the Ark when they locked us up?” You ask. 

“The hell we are,” Mbege says in response.

“You’re wearing those bracelets, aren’t you? Right now, those things are telling them whether or not it’s safe to follow us down.” Bellamy states.

“Okay. You said we could stop it. How?” Murphy asks.

“Well, if we take them off. The Ark will believe that it's not safe to follow, right?” You say slightly questioning if that’s where he was getting at.

“Right, and if we do, I mean, what’s in it for us?” Murphy asks.

“Someones gotta help me run things,” Bellamy states walking away, pulling you with him.

“So you wanna help me?” He asks looking you straight in the eyes.

“Well, that depends,” you respond smirking back at him.

“On what entirely?” He asks.

“On if you really need me. I mean, you’ve got Murphy and Mbege. So why do you need me?” You ask walking back to your pile of stuff. 

“I think people will get behind me if you’re on my side. You are the girl who killed three guards, right?” He responds. You stop in your tracks annoyed at the fact that he brought that up and walk back up to him. 

“What does that have to do with anything? What, you think that they’ll follow out of fear of me? It’s just a rumor,” You whisper defensively and walk away, leaving him standing alone. 

A couple of hours go by as you start to set up your own little sleeping area. You hear footsteps coming up behind you, knowing it could only be one person. “What do you want Bellamy?” You ask annoyed.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up, clearly, I struck a chord. You and the Council are the only ones that know the truth. But that rumor everyone hears may still help, regardless if its true or not. Anyways, I really do need someone other than Murphy and Mbege. So if you are really are up for it, then here,” Bellamy says, dropping some stick on the ground and starts to walk away.

“I’m sorry for snapping. It's just a very touchy subject. I don’t really have anyone up there that I want to come down, so I'll help you. But we’re not using that rumor as a way to strike fear into anyone or whatever, ” You say walking up to him, handing the stick back and holding your right wrist out. He smiles and takes the stick from you and starts to pry the wristband off. Once the band was off your wrist felt much better.

“So, what’s the first step, to keep people from the Ark coming down?” You ask Bellamy while you rub where the wristband was. 

“Well, first we have to get people to take their wristbands off. I’ll go let the John’s know what's up.” Bellamy responds.

Eventually, you gave up trying to set up a private-ish place to sleep since you would’ve needed someone's help to set the tent up and stuff and no one seemed to care. You ended up taking all of the sleeping stuff back inside the Dropship. At least you have somewhere to sleep. You spent a few more hours talking to the other kids and getting them to agree to take their wristbands off. Once the sun had set, Bellamy, the Johns, and you met up and started to gather the people around a fire. The John’s began taking the kid’s wristbands off and throwing them into the fire. Once the first person had their wristband taken off, cheers and whoops filled the air. They continued to do so until Well’s walked up asking what was going on. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Wells questions

“Just leave it,” You whisper to Bellamy but he doesn’t listen.

“We’re liberating ourselves. What does it look like?” Bellamy responds defensively.

“It looks like you're trying to get us all killed. The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we got. Take them off, and the Ark will think we're dying, that it's not safe for them to follow.”

“That's the point, Chancellor. We can take care of ourselves, can't we?!” Bellamy says as the other kids around agree. You started to tune out the conversation until you heard Wells state, “My father didn't write the laws.”

“He may have not written them, but he enforced them,” You protest back, crossing your arms.

“So did your father, when he was on the Council,” You hear the kids around you murmur confused.

“Yes. He did. Until your father didn’t let them save my mom, floated my father and locked me up for trying! You don’t get to say that Wells, I’m not privileged like you. Not for five years. Down here we have free will, we don’t have to listen to what they want anymore.” 

“Here, there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want whenever the hell we want. Now, you don't have to like it, Wells. You can even try to stop it or change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want.” Bellamy says agreeing with me. 

The crowd began to erupt into a chant, “ Whatever the hell we want! Whatever the hell we want! Whatever the hell we want!” 

All of a sudden we heard thunder and rain started to fall. You look up to the sky and feel the drops of water fall on your face, you then look over and smile at Bellamy who smiles back. Wells says something to Bellamy but you couldn’t hear over everyone else.

After the rain and everyone calmed down from the excitement you went to the Dropship and set up a makeshift bed. Of course, you were left with only so much, since most of the other kids had taken the other supplies you had left. 

“Here,” You hear a deep voice behind you, knowing who it is. You turn around to see Bellamy holding out a tarp towards you. 

“No, use it for yourself. I have enough here,” You say to him gesturing to your makeshift bed. He sets it on top of your stuff anyways and you sigh, “if you insist,” You say and bend down to fix it how you want.

“Goodnight,” You say to Bellamy as you lay down and try to get comfortable.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He replies and goes to his own makeshift bed. Or more like a fort with tarps hung up to give him privacy. You think to yourself, that he must really have these kids wrapped around his finger if they built that for them.

After a couple of hours of trying to fall asleep, you hear some rustling. Letting your curiosity getting the best of you, you follow the bodies walking out of the Dropship after the last one left. Once you were able to get a clear picture of the people, you noticed it was Bellamy, the Johns and two other guys. They went to wake up Wells and led him to a clearing. You watched the events unfold as they threaten and force him to take off his wristband.

Unfortunately, as you stepped to try to get a closer look, you stepped on a stick and it snapped loudly. Disappointed in your very bad sneaking skills, you hide behind the tree. As a guy who was sent to check out what the noise was approaching you, you tried to take a swing at him but he caught your arm, pulled you to his chest and put a knife to your throat. 

“Well, look who we have here,” Murphy says as he presses the knife in your neck. He leads you out into the clearing. “We have a little spy here,” He says to Bellamy and the other guys.

“She’s not a spy, let her go. Take Wells back to the camp.” Bellamy says. Murphy doesn’t waver and just presses the knife closer, drawing some blood as the other guys forcefully pick up Wells. 

“Now!” Bellamy demands as you elbow Murphy in the stomach making him let go and walk away with the other guys. You cross your arms and wait until they’re far enough to speak. 

Bellamy tries to wipe away the blood on your neck with his sleeve before you push his arm away, “I’m fine, but why did you have to do that,” You ask sternly and Bellamy sighs.

“Look, we had to scare him and…” 

“No. No, you didn’t, there are better ways of getting people like him behind you. You don’t need to make people scared to stand behind you,” You exclaim. 

“Y/N, the longer people deflect and don’t make the Ark think we’re dying. The people up there are closer to coming down here,” Bellamy says looking up at the sky. 

“You don’t think I know that!? Do you really think that I want the people who wouldn’t help my mom, who floated my dad, and imprisoned me at 12 years old, to come down here and punish us again? I don’t but we don’t need to put fear in people to do it.” You rant and feel tears start to fall down your face.

“No, but…” Bellamy starts, but you walk away. He starts to say your name but you get too far to hear the rest of it.

You go back to the camp and clean your neck up with the water that Wells gathered. You feel more tears run down your face as you continue to think about your parents, wishing that you could’ve saved them both. After a few minutes, Bellamy walked into camp, you just glared at him before returning to your bed in the Dropship. You finally fall asleep after lying awake for a few more hours.

A/N: Here is the first official part of my 100 series, Virago. Let me know what you think. I haven’t come out with a set release schedule my series. I think I may release parts for this one on Saturday (pt. 2 this sat) and my TVD one on Sunday (pt. 6 this sun). I’ll try for a while and see if that works. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts. Stay safe and healthy.

Taglist: @im-a-writer-right​

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 21: Gᴜɴsʜᴏᴛs Iɴ Tʜᴇ Dᴀʀᴋ

Masterlist

Episode: Day Trip

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty-One

I hurried as I travelled back to Raven and Finn, who were gathering a small group at the far end of the camp. The light was fading rapidly from the sky, so I occupied myself with building a fire that I could settle people around to keep them warm. Raven approached me with confusion. 

“What are you doing back here? I thought you two were dealing with the ship side?” She asked and my stomach lurched as I realised that my lies were starting to clash. I mentally cursed Octavia for cornering me into this and tried to think of a believable answer.

“There was hardly anyone left over there so I bought them over this way, I thought it would make sense to keep everyone together.” I commented, using some honesty to buy myself time. I had checked that there was no one near the dropship before returning, so I was confident in sharing this information. “Octavia’s staying there a little longer to double check there’s no leftovers.” I surprised myself at how easily I lied and I continued with my task to ensure that my words seemed casual and authentic. “Okay, the fire’s going, it’s getting darker so it’ll get real cold soon. Could you send anyone who is calm enough over this way and I’ll start wrapping them up. We also need to get water, we might as well try flushing it out of people. The sooner we can get this out of their system, the better.” I instructed as I tried to both change the subject from Octavia’s whereabouts and consider the needs of the camp simultaneously.

“Yes ma’am.” Raven replied willingly and I was surprised not to find any sarcasm in her tone. It was unusual for me to take control of a situation but as our normal leaders were off jaunting in the woods, I didn’t have much choice but to step up. My stomach lurched as Bellamy’s strange behaviour earlier flitted through my mind and I had to force it out so that I could concentrate on the situation in front of me. Finn slowly made his way over with several containers of water and I smiled at him as I took them gratefully. 

“Thanks. Are you sure you should be up and about just yet, Mr Big Hero?” I asked as I assessed him with concern. He seemed to be moving fine but I was uncomfortable allowing him to be so active without Clarke here to clear him for action. He smiled bashfully at the name. 

“I think I’m ready to manage a little babysitting.” He chuckled under his breath. “Raven said that you helped a lot with the surgery and all that. Thanks for keeping her calm, I know it can’t have been an easy task.” He spoke evenly and his tone was genuinely thankful. I cleared my throat awkwardly and decided not to mention that we likely wouldn’t be sharing a moment like that again for a while.

“You’re welcome, we’ve gotta keep our numbers up.” I replied as an excuse and he laughed. “Besides, I hardly did anything. Raven and Clarke were the real MVPs.” I replied gingerly, rubbing the back of my neck and hoped to scare off his kindness.

“I don’t know, I heard some pretty tough radio talk, even through my coma.” He laughed playfully as he peeked at me. “I think you might have missed your calling on the Ark, communications could have made great use of you.” He winked and I laughed in response to his assumption. “I’ll get you some blankets.” He stated as he shuffled away.

Soon people started to arrive following Raven’s directions and I wrapped them up in the makeshift blankets that Finn delivered and settled them around the fire with some water. It wasn’t long before I had my hands full with a confused group to babysit and Finn and Raven took up positions nearby to help keep an eye on the more active members. I no longer had to focus on distracting anyone, as the wanderers kept us plenty busy. It had gotten properly dark by the time Octavia sauntered over to the fire and I was growing restless as I considered that Bellamy and Clarke still hadn’t returned. Octavia nodded subtly from the edge of view, acknowledging a job completed. She then casually approached as Raven and Finn watched and I had to quickly remind myself of the narrative that I’d spun. 

“Hey Tavi, no stragglers left on your side of camp?” I asked, trying my best to seem casual as I hoped she would understand what I was doing and not accidentally reveal my lies.

“No movement that way, and I just dropped Jasper at his tent to join Monty for a nap. He’s finally stopped screaming about grounders so I think we’ve got a rough time scale for when it wears off now.” She laughed as she made her way over to sit beside me, and I was impressed at how naturally she caught on to the situation. I was also pleased to hear that the boys were safe and sighed in relief.

“Any sign of Clarke or Bellamy over there?” I asked with genuine concern as my mind returned to their absence. Octavia shook her head and I only grew more unsettled. “Okay, do you think you can take over here? They’re mostly all chilled by now but it sounds like effects should be wearing off soon anyway.” I asked as I got to my feet but she grabbed my arm and glimpsed up at me in concern.

“Of course, but where are you going?” She asked, checking me closely.

“I need to look for our missing leaders.” I smiled gently in the hope that she wouldn’t cause a scene but to my disappointment she glared back. I didn’t want to draw any attention to the fact that I was leaving and sat back down before anyone could notice that we were behaving strangely.

“No, absolutely not, you can’t go alone.” She spoke adamantly as she studied me and I sighed deeply. I didn’t have patience left to argue with her today and wished that for once she wouldn’t make things difficult.

“We don’t have the manpower to launch a full search party right now Tavi. I don’t even know where they went, so it’s not like I can go far. I’m just going to do a small venture in their direction and hopefully I’ll bump into them on their way back. If I don’t come back quickly enough, you’ll have more people back to normal to send a rescue group.” I smiled gently and she frowned back at me with an unconvinced face. “Come on, your brother’s out there and he could be hurt.I need to see what’s going on.” I reasoned as I gazed at her but she continued to frown at me. She sighed as she reluctantly let go of my hand. 

“Fine, don’t take too long, or I’ll send the whole camp.” She threatened and I didn’t doubt her seriousness for a moment. I got to my feet and I crept out quietly so as not to draw attention. I gathered some limited supplies and snuck into the woods.

I wandered aimlessly in the direction that I had seen them leave in and within no time struggled to tell where I was in the darkness. I tried to look for any signs of them, but it was much harder to track than Finn made it look when he led the group. I couldn’t ignore the building anxiety in my gut the further I went and kicked myself for believing that I would simply bump into them out here. I stopped walking and stared out into the dense gloom that surrounded me from all angles. I considered turning back, but I was haunted with horrendous images of the things that could have happened to them out here if they’d taken the nuts with them. I hesitated, frozen to the spot as I deliberated with myself. With no better ideas, I called out into the trees. 

“Bellamy! Clarke!” I shouted into the shadows and waited nervously for a few moments, but nothing changed. I couldn’t think of anything else to do and I knew that if I got lost out here there would be a frantic search party sent by Octavia. I was about to turn back towards camp when a gunshot rang out in the distance. I didn’t waste a second in reacting to it as I took off in the direction of the sound. My feet pounded in the mud at the same pace that my mind obsessed over the million awful scenarios that could surround the gunshot. I strained to keep my focus in the moment as I rushed blindly into whatever danger awaited me. Just as I started to worry that I may have lost the trail, two more gunshots carried between the trees and I followed them with a terror gripping my chest. My heart raced wildly and I panted in a mixture of exhaustion and fear.

“Get the hell off of him!” I recognised Clarke’s panicked voice immediately and forced myself into a manic sprint. As I drew closer, I could hear the sounds of a struggle and I prayed that they were safe. Moments later I fell into a clearing and I could barely comprehend what I was seeing. There was a dead body of someone I didn’t recognise sprawled out in the middle of the clearing, and leaning against opposite trees facing each other were Clarke and Bellamy. Bellamy was screaming wildly and clawing at the air around him, whilst Clarke yelled over in his direction with desperation. As she was closer and seemed to be more lucid, I dropped down to her side first.

“Hey! Clarke, you’re okay, look at me.” I spoke firmly, taking her face in my hands and forcing her to meet my eyes. Her face felt warm in my hands, but she seemed to be past the point of fever and from what I could tell, she was able to concentrate on me. “You’re alright, what you’re seeing and feeling is just the effects of the nuts we found earlier, they’re causing everyone at camp to trip bollocks. Here.” I handed her a bottle of water from my belt after removing the cap to make it easier for her. “Start on this, you need to rehydrate all that fluid you’ve sweated out with your fever and we want to try flushing this out of your system as soon as possible.” I spoke firmly but slowly, ensuring that she was absorbing the information and she nodded in acknowledgment. Bellamy was getting louder behind me and I could hear that he had started to hyperventilate. “You just sit there and keep drinking, stay calm and let me know if you start seeing anything weird. I have to deal with him.” I explained quickly, watching her reaction to check that she would be okay alone.

“I’m okay, I can help.” She whispered in a hoarse voice as she tried to lift herself from the ground and I firmly pushed her back into a seated position.

“Clarke, the best thing you can do for me right now is to sit there and get sober so I can concentrate on Bellamy. Can you do that for me, please?” I stayed in her eyeline and waited for her to nod reluctantly. As soon as she did, I turned on the spot and began to approach Bellamy. He was screaming out gibberish between jagged breaths, and he repeatedly appeared to lash out at thin air. He didn’t seem to notice my presence at all, as if he were seeing straight through me. “God, he’s having a really bad trip, almost everyone else at camp is just having pleasant hallucinations.” I commented, as I slowly tried to enter his space and moved carefully in an effort not to startle him. “Has he been like this for long?” I called back to Clarke in question as I kept my eyes fixed on him. I reached out to touch him as gently as I could, but he immediately flinched away from me. Although our contact was brief, I was able to feel the scolding heat that poured off his skin and I could see the sheen on his face that indicated he was still running an extreme fever. 

“Hours, I can’t get through to him, it’s like he can’t even see me.” Clarke explained quietly between deep, steadying breaths. “He was lucid for a little while when we were fighting Dax, but straight after he went back into panic. This is the worst I’ve seen him yet.” She confirmed and I sighed regretfully as I processed this information. As I got closer, I could make out the obvious signs of a struggle, as there was hardly any part of his face that wasn’t swollen or blood smeared and I was saddened to see him in such a state again. 

“What have you tried already?” I asked, watching closely as he attempted to defend himself against whatever attack he was experiencing in his mind.

“I’ve yelled at him, shook him, I even tried slapping him to shock him out of it.” Clarke breathed, sounding remorseful about this choice. I sighed thoughtfully as I studied him and his jagged movements caused him to hit himself. He didn’t even seem to notice the impact as he was so lost in the visions and inspected him sympathetically. “He’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t calm down, hours is a long time for the human body to deal with that level of panic.” Clarke added poignantly and I wrecked my brain for a way to reach him.

“He’s too deep in the hallucinations, he might be too overstimulated already to react to shock.” I muttered, pacing around as I considered any other possible options. I didn’t have enough knowledge of drug use to know what would usually be recommended and I wished that I’d learned more useful skills before we were sent to Earth. 

As I observed his movements, he reminded me of Octavia as he began to scratch at his arms. During the beginning of our friendship in the Skybox, Octavia would have frequent panic attacks about returning to her cell. All of her years of hiding from the guards in her mother's quarters had left her with a residual fear of being contained. It took a while for us to find coping mechanisms to help her manage this fear and in the meantime, I had to learn how to calm her during an outburst. When I looked at Bellamy, despite their many differences, I noticed some similar behaviours in their panic and I began to wonder if the same method would work on him.

He was hyperventilating hysterically now and his lips were turning blue, a telltale sign of lack of oxygen that I remembered from Octavia. With little time left to hesitate, I approached him and fell into his space. I crouched over him, placing my knees either side of his thighs and pulled him into my arms. At first he fought me and only seemed to be more panicked by the sudden contact. It was substantially harder to contain him than it ever was with Octavia and I didn’t allow myself any time to doubt, as I knew I had no other ideas. I pulled him in tighter as I remembered that Octavia would continue to lash out with her arms until I stopped her and so I pulled his arms down to his sides and embraced him around them. I held him tightly in place, allowing him to feel the pressure around him and tried to speak gently in his ear. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe. What you’re seeing isn’t real, it’s not real Bellamy, you’re safe, shh.” I whispered gently as I felt his arms finally calming and after a few moments I dared to risk releasing them. They flopped loosely to his side and he didn’t attempt to hit anything again, much to my relief. Instead, he continued to tremble in my embrace and I slowly moved a hand to his neck to feel his pulse. It was hammering so fast that it was hard to even count and the heat that poured off him made me sweat. He was no longer shouting, but he continued to hyperventilate and I knew that we were still in a risky situation.

“You’re safe Bellamy, it’s okay, the threat isn’t real.” I spoke in a slow, calming manner as I held him to me, hoping to draw his attention to me over whatever horrors were happening in his mind. “If you can hear my voice, I need you to concentrate on it. Don’t listen to anyone else, listen to me.” I asserted and I felt his breathing hitch. I took this break in gasps as a sign that he was listening to me. “That’s it, you’re safe. Everything is okay, you’re just hallucinating. You ate some bad food and it’s messing with your head. I promise, what you’re seeing isn’t real.” I explained gently as I waited for him to calm. I moved my hand slowly to feel his pulse again and I noticed that it was finally starting to slow down. I let out a small sigh of relief and gripped him to me again. I cradled his head with one hand, tenderly stroking his hair in a soothing manner as I continued to talk to him. 

“That’s it, you’re doing well. Try to slow your breathing down for me. You’re safe. Raven and Finn are taking care of everyone back at camp and Octavia didn’t eat it, so she’s safe with them. Everything’s okay.” I spoke slowly as I tried to clear any concerns that may be bothering him and felt that his breathing was finally starting to become more regular. He didn’t seem to be any more lucid yet unfortunately, so I decided to try implementing some of the methods that I’d learned to refocus Octavia when she was lost to panic. “Listen to my voice, I want you to really focus on it. Good. Now, focus on the other things you can feel in your body. The cool, wet ground beneath you, the cool crisp air on your skin. Listen to my breathing, the wind in the trees. Can you feel my arms around you, my hand in your hair, my breathing near your ear? I need you to focus on those things around you Bellamy, what you really see, hear, smell, taste, feel. Pick them out in your mind. You’re safe, come back to us.” I have clear instruction and prayed that it would be enough to bring him out of his mind. As I finished guiding him through the technique, he finally spoke in a small, exhausted voice. 

“I-Indigo?” He asked with such deep uncertainty that my heart broke for him. I finally released him from my grip, leaning back into his lap to view his tear streaked face. 

“Hey you.” I smiled warmly and he stared back at me in wide eyed confusion. “Here, drink some water, you’re dehydrated and I need you to start flushing this crap out of your system.” I handed the open bottle to him and he took it from me with shaking hands, sipping from it delicately. “You just sit still and drink that okay? I’m just gonna go check on Clarke, I’ll be right there and then I’ll come straight back to you.” I explained quickly. 

I moved before my heart strings could stop me and rushed back to Clarke’s side. She looked much calmer now and I checked to find that she had drunk almost the whole bottle of water that I’d left her with. I held my hand to her forehead and felt that she was almost back to a normal temperature. As a last precaution, I took the flashlight from my belt and gently flashed it at one eye at a time, confirming that she was back to normal dilation. 

“Okay, you’re good. You can start gathering stuff to go back to camp. I’m gonna check on Bellamy and once he’s ready, we’ll move.” I ordered. Clarke nodded and started to get to her feet. I turned back to Bellamy, who was staring wide eyed at the body and was slowly losing control of his breathing again. I rushed back over and sat beside him on the opposite side from the body. I gently took his face in my hands and guided him to look at me. “Hey, no, don’t look at that, look at me. I need you to stay calm, it’s gonna take a little while for this stuff to fully work itself out of your body, so you can’t get too panicky or you’ll start tripping again. Stay focused on me and take some deep breaths. Alright, good. See, surely I can’t be that scary?” I smiled gently and felt a twinge of worry when he didn’t even flinch toward a smile back. It was unusual for him not to respond to humour, even in the most stressful situations. “You’re okay.” I breathed as I regarded him with sympathy. 

“No, I’m not.” He whispered with fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he panted for breath. “My mother...if she knew what I’ve done, who I am-” He choked up momentarily with emotion, the pain of the time here crashing down on him all at once. “She raised me to be good. And all I do is hurt people.” He paused to sniff as his desperate eyes met mine. “I’m a monster.” He spat with a devastating conviction. 

“No Bellamy, that’s not true!” I gasped as I wiped his tears away and gazed at his broken expression with an aching heart. “Your mother raised you the best she could, as all parents on the Ark struggle to do in that stifling environment. But she also crushed you under the weight of the responsibility that you were far too young to bear. You have done everything in your power to keep Octavia safe and I know that she would be proud of you for that. None of us ever expected to be here in this situation, and I’m sure if she could see you now, she wouldn’t see a monster. She’d see a survivor, she’d see the man who made the difficult choices to keep us alive. We wouldn’t have made it this far without you. We need you Bellamy.” I spoke earnestly and even surprised myself at my own honesty. Bellamy scoffed and looked away from me. My stomach churned as I processed the self loathing of his words and I was compelled to guide him into a more beneficial thought process. “I know my words don’t take away the guilt and the pain you’re feeling. I can’t even begin to imagine what you feel, with everything that is on your shoulders. But it’s time to stop waiting for forgiveness for your mistakes and start facing them.” He looked back at me with fear in his eyes and I sighed. “And you know what, you may not want to hear this, but it’s time for you to forgive yourself. You are only one person thrown into a situation that is impossible to have prepared for. You made mistakes, yes. Shockingly you’re not perfect. But it’s time to stop beating yourself up over them and start acknowledging them. Take responsibility and face up to the consequences. You can’t run forever Bellamy.” I finished gently as I gazed into his eyes and he sighed, watching me with a terrified expression. 

“How do I do that?” He asked in a small shaky voice and I smiled at him with gentle encouragement. 

“One step at a time, but you’re not going to be doing it alone. I’ve got your back.” I asserted as I reached out to squeeze his hand.

“Jaha will kill me when he comes down.” He breathed and my stomach lurched at the mention of the Chancellor. I hadn’t even considered yet that he would be one of the people to come down and I felt a fire burning inside of me at the thought. 

“I won’t let that happen.” I growled with more fury than intended and he finally showed a hint of a smile at my veracity. “How much does Clarke know?” I whispered as I leaned into him inquisitively. 

“Everything.” He sighed and I raised my brows in surprise. I guessed it was hard to keep secrets when you have crazy hallucinogens in your system and tried to be understanding about him involving her in his crisis. 

“Okay, in that case, we’ll work it out on the way back to camp. Come on, up you get.” I helped him to his feet with difficulty as Clarke carefully approached us. “Let’s get back to camp, people are going to be getting worried.” I suggested as I supported Bellamy to find his balance weakly. 

“We have to go back to the building we found first, there’s supplies to collect. We can’t afford to risk anyone else finding them first.” Clarke stated firmly and I stared at her in surprise. I couldn’t imagine how we were going to transport them with them in such a weakened state but I reluctantly agreed so that I could get them moving. 

We walked slowly as we wandered in a tight formation back to their discovery. I reluctantly assisted in packing up the supplies they’d found, which mostly consisted of copious amounts of guns and we spread the weight between us as we started on our return to camp. Bellamy was unusually quiet during the walk and I noticed that he kept glancing back over his shoulder fearfully. I wanted to believe it was due to the paranoia of his earlier visions, but I’d been considering his strange behaviour this morning alongside some information I’d gathered since seeing him again and I had a suspicion that I knew what was really going on with him. Now that he was calmer, I couldn’t hold in my thoughts any longer and turned to look at him with impatience. 

“You weren’t planning on coming back to camp, were you?” I asked quietly to keep Clarke from hearing our conversation. His eyes shot to me in surprise and as he realised that I was awaiting an answer, he looked away in avoidance. I scoffed in response to his unintentional confirmation of my theory. “I knew something was wrong when you left. Were you even going to say goodbye?” As the question left my lips, I heard the hurt in my tone and inwardly kicked myself for allowing that to show. Bellamy stared at the ground with a guilty expression, his head hung low in a silent answer. “Did you really think you could just hide out in the woods? You must’ve known that I’d look for you?” I quizzed him before quickly stumbling over my words as I realised exactly what I’d said. “Among others of course.” I added hurriedly. 

“I didn’t think about it in any detail, Indigo. All I knew was that Jaha was making plans to come down here and if I stayed in camp I was a sitting duck.” He mumbled in a poor attempt at an explanation and I sighed deeply at him. I could tell that this fear of inescapable punishment was still messing with him as we marched back in the direction of camp. 

“Hey Clarke?” I called out to her as she walked with purpose just ahead of us and she slowed to meet my side. “You know all about this mess now, have you got any bright ideas for keeping Bellamy alive and in camp?” I asked as I shot an accusing glare at him for trying to abandon us, implying that I could tell that he was still considering running at this very moment. “Jaha isn’t known for his mercy and if he tries to punish Bellamy the way he would on the Ark...well, there’s gonna be more than one life lost, that’s for sure.” I spoke honestly as I imagined the guards trying to take him for execution and I couldn’t even account for the damage I’d be willing to do to stop it. She stared up at the sky thoughtfully for a while as we trudged through the forest. 

“I’ve known the Chancellor most of my life. I don’t approve of most of what he does, but he’s actually a much more reasonable man than most of the Ark realises.” She spoke in a distracted voice as she explained and I scoffed at her words. 

“Yeah, cuz the death penalty for any and all crime is totally reasonable.” I spat and she squinted at me in a defensive manner. “I’m sorry, I know you’re not the enemy. What was your point?” I spoke sheepishly following my unintentional attack. 

“Jaha is always willing to discuss terms, trades and compromises. I know him well enough to know how to convince him. I could help you talk to him.” She flashed Bellamy a hopeful smile but he only responded with confusion.

“What could we possibly trade him for? I can’t imagine we have anything he would want in this paradise.” He asked with a bitter tone as his exhausted face revealed his doubt.

“Information; you offer to tell him who asked you to shoot him, but only in exchange for a pardon.” Clarke sounded genuinely enthused with her idea and I felt a small shred of hope blossoming in my chest. Bellamy stared at her in surprise, and I joined him, before breaking into a wicked smile. 

“You know what, that could actually work. You’re secretly sly Clarke! I’ll have to watch you in future.” I chuckled as I was hit with a feeling of genuine relief. I turned back to face Bellamy. “What do you think Bellamy? Are you ready to deal with this?” I asked as I watched him closely, hoping with everything in me that he wouldn't turn and run. He finally broke into a smile and my heart fluttered at the sight. 

“Let’s do it. Nothing else left to try.” He answered and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

The remaining walk to camp felt easier and I was more relaxed than I had been in days. I knew that this was still a gamble, but I trusted Clarke’s judgement and her history with Jaha to pull this off. As we approached the edge of the fencing I split off from them, allowing them to make their grand, victorious entrance without my interference. Instead, I went to find Jasper who was finally back to his normal self and happily sleeping. Monty was also sitting in the tent and when I entered he shifted awkwardly.

 “Hey, if it isn’t my two favourite troublemakers.” I chanted with a smile as I sat beside him. “Are you guys feeling okay?” I asked with a hint of concern as I looked between them. 

“I’m fine. Jasper was feeling pretty exhausted, but it sounds like he spent a lot of his day panicking, so I don’t really blame him.” He explained as he watched Jasper with care. He cleared his throat and avoided looking back at me as he spoke again. “I’m really sorry if I came across as weird earlier, I tend to say some pretty wild stuff when I’m...you know.” He spoke in a small voice and fidgeted his hands awkwardly. I struggled to stifle a giggle as I remembered the numerous compliments he’d given me during the day and instead I focused on trying to ease his entirely unnecessary embarrassment. 

“You think you were wild? Did Jasper remember telling Octavia he loved her yet?” I asked playfully and Monty snorted in laughter. “Twice!” I crumbled into giggles at the memory and was glad to be able to share some humour after such a difficult day. “Seriously, we’re good, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re both okay. I’m gonna find Octavia and I’ll leave you to comfort your friend here. I get the feeling his ego’s going to be a little bruised when he wakes up.” I winked, before heading back to the main activity of camp. 

I glanced around to seek out Octavia and I had already begun to approach her when I noticed Bellamy hovering awkwardly nearby, observing her with a beaten puppy expression. He hadn’t noticed my presence, so I quickly stepped to the side to remain out of his line of sight. I watched as he gingerly wrapped a blanket around her and she glanced back at him in annoyance. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened between them in the last few days, but I had the impression that some hurtful words had been exchanged. I hoped that they could find a way to trust each other, but I knew that it would take time for this to build. I was too far from them to hear what was said, but I could tell from Bellamy’s body language that he was trying his best with her and I smiled at the sight.

“Bellamy!” Clarke called as she emerged from the tent where the communications with the Ark were stored. Unfortunately this was right beside the spot I was hiding in plain sight. Inwardly, I cursed her for interrupting their bonding moment until she spoke again. “It’s time.” She said with a significant tone and I glimpsed over in shock. I didn’t expect them to launch into their plan so quickly, I hadn’t had a chance to even discuss it with Bellamy yet. I made the quick decision to not involve myself in the situation. If he felt ready to do this now, then I was glad that they were immediately getting it out of the way before he could change his mind. He didn't notice me as he turned from Octavia and took a few steps toward the tent and I considered backing away. He suddenly stopped mid way and turned back to face her. 

“The grounder escaping, was that you?” He spoke with an accusing manner and my blood felt like it turned to pure ice at his question. Octavia didn’t even turn around, keeping her back to him and I found myself thanking every star that he wasn’t facing me as I tried to force myself to behave normally. I knew that he wouldn’t approve of my part in it and after how close we’d grown tonight, I was terrified of disrupting this hard earned peace. I genuinely couldn’t tell any longer if he’d be angry or if he would allow me the time to explain. I felt myself spiralling into panic as I awaited her response.

“I had nothing to do with it.” She replied coolly and my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know how to feel about her involving me in her lie and I despised that I’d found myself caught between her and Bellamy. I forced the feeling to the back of my mind to deal with later as Bellamy sighed and continued toward the tent. I startled as he finally noticed me and I considered simply walking away, but his vulnerable eyes drew me toward him. I walked to him as if in a trance and simply put a hand on his forearm. I steeled myself as I stared up into his eyes with a confident smile. 

“You're going to be fine.” I spoke with an assertive sense of belief and he smiled nervously in return. “I’ll see you on the other side as a free man.” I breathed, releasing him to enter the tent. I tried desperately to force myself to leave, to trust them to manage the situation and fill me in after. I couldn’t help the slideshow in my mind of all the times things had gone wrong and Bellamy had run off, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave the edge of the tent. I waited right outside, straining to hear what was said.

“Mr Blake, I’ve wanted to talk to you for some time now.” The chancellor's voice was clear and assertive and it sent chills down my spine.

“Before you do, I’d like to say something. When you sent us down here you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy.” Clarke’s voice was calm, but her words made it clear that trusting her was the correct choice here. She knew exactly how to present her case. “He’s one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us.” She asserted and I couldn’t help but to be impressed by her.

I felt like I could barely breathe as I waited for the Chancellor’s response. Although I knew that this was the best chance for Bellamy, I was also terrified that this was the moment I would find out that there was no hope for him here; I wrestled my anxiety at even the thought of it.

“Clarke, I appreciate your point of view, but it’s not that simple.” The chancellor replied and I felt like I might heave at any moment. I reminded myself that they hadn’t thrown in their trade yet, it wasn’t over.

“It is if you want to know who on the Ark wants you dead.” Bellamy spoke assertively and I felt my heart swell with pride. I waited for what felt like an eternity for a response and couldn’t even move a single muscle in my body.

“Bellamy Blake, you’re pardoned for your crimes.” The Chancellor’s answer was firm and decisive, and I felt myself gasp out for air. I dropped to a crouch, just catching myself before I hit the ground and held my head in my hands.  I felt tears freely roam down my cheeks and the relief poured over me in an overwhelming wave. I forced myself to a standing position so that I could rush to the tent to compose myself.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 11/?

Masterlist

Summary: Worried about the people she loves, Y/N retreats inside of herself. Meanwhile, Raven and Bellamy do something unforgivable.

Warnings: swearing, ANGST, violence, intrusive thoughts

Notes: based on episode 1x11 “the Calm”

The Ark had gone silent. Ever since Unity Day. Not even a whisper or crackle of the radio was heard over the next few days.

Everyone she loved was dead.

Marcus, Vera, Abby, Kyle, Sinclair….

They were all gone and the few people she trusted on the ground were already at each other's throats. Footsteps trailed behind her as she continued work on the walkies, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

"You okay?" Bellamy asked gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

Y/N sniffed, wiping her nose as she shoved everything she was feeling behind her brick wall. It had taken some time to rebuild, but she was ready. "Yeah," She spoke, feigning the happy tone in her voice, "I'm fine."

"Y/N--"

"I can’t focus on that right now Bellamy," She cut off, refusing to turn to face him, "Not when we have grounders on their way."

Bellamy eyed her up and down, knowing there was more behind her wall than she let on, but thankfully he let her be.

She exhaled, relieved as his footsteps dissipated, the clanging becoming quieter as she turned to face Monty.

"You know he cares about you right?" The other engineer asked rhetorically. She nodded before gesturing back to the task at hand, "get back to work."

Raven came barreling in at breakneck speed, tension still rife from their previous conversation. "These are great, but without the proper wiring and transmitters we won't be able to talk long distance."

She knew Raven Reyes better than anyone, and that meant knowing her coping mechanisms as well. She was upset about Finn, but unlike some other people, Y/N let her be, knowing how she felt. She needed time to cope.

"What does that mean?" Monty asked.

Raven shot a resigned look at Y/N, "It means we have to dismantle the radio."

"No!" Monty stopped the mechanic from moving any further, "We need this to talk to the Ark"

"Monty get out of the way--"

Sparks flew behind them as Y/N snatched the radio free, stomach lurching as she did. It was over. Everyone was gone. She needed to accept that.

"Thanks" Raven's eyes narrowed in surprise as she began to break apart the very device they had rebuilt from the beginning.

"What the hell Y/N?" Monty asked, crossing his arms, "Do you not want them to find us?"

"They're dead Monty" Her breath hitched as she spoke, trying to prevent the tears from spilling out, "We need to use every part we can to survive."

The silence that fell over them didn’t last long. Soon the air was peppered with cries of a fire, causing Y/N to abandon the walkies to deal with the commotion outside. She watched in shock as the meat tent went up in flames, and she showed up just in time to see Murphy lunge at Del.

"hey!" Y/N called, storming between the two, "That's enough" She pulled Del off of Murphy, "I said Enough!"

Bellamy joined the commotion, "What the hell happened?"

Murphy wiped his nose, "Del built up the fire because your sister told him not to."

Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. "None of this is salvageable" She announced turning toward Bellamy, "We need to go hunting."

"I want one gunner in each group!" Bellamy called from the front of the dropship, "Use the spears and blades for hunting, bullets are for grounders only, we can’t spare the ammo."

Y/N tried to hide the involuntary smirk on her face as she continued to wire the speaker into the walkie talkie. "You're good at that" She responded, picking through the parts.

"Good at what?" Bellamy asked, joining her at the workbench.

"Ordering people around," She commented, "Leading."

He shuffled his feet, gaze scanning her body as her brow furrowed, creasing her beautiful features into a concentrated expression as she began to work with the walkie. "So are you" He decided on saying.

She scoffed, a small chuckle escaping her, "No I'm not, but thanks for the ego boost, god knows I needed it."

"Y/N--"

She turned to her side, facing him as his arm threatened to keep her trapped against the table. She wasn’t ready to talk right now. "Go, your people need you."

He swung his hand as he left, pulling at each finger before exiting the dropship. Relief flooded her body once again, upset with herself for pushing him away again. He was only trying to help.

But not today.

No one could help her today.

Night had fallen by the time she had finished the second walkie, Raven taking her leave long after Finn and Clarke had disappeared with Myles on the hunt. She wanted to reach out, to say something, but she also knew Raven had a very specific coping mechanism and she didn't want to intrude on that.

Y/N would hate if it happened to her, so why should she do it to Raven? They'd been burying their feelings since they were kids. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

"Y/N!" Octavia ran in breathless, "Have you seen Finn and Clarke?" She asked, green eyes growing wide.

"Not since they left for the hunt, why?" She asked, creasing her brow in worry.

Octavia hestitated, her mouth opening and closing until she spat out the news, "All the other groups have returned. All except them and Myles."

Y/N inhaled sharply, leaving her work abandoned on the table before her. "I'll tell Bellamy, we'll wait until he gives the okay, then we go to find them."

Octavia nodded, picking at her fingernails, "I'll see if anyone else has seen them."

Anxiety tickled her stomach as the two women parted ways. Clarke and Finn were fine, she told herself, they had to be. Clarke had faced worse than grounders. She brushed her hands together as she approached Bellamy's tent, pulling open the flap.

"Bellamy! Clarke, Finn, and Myles haven’t come back yet so we--"

The sound died in her throat as realization struck her. He wasn't alone.

Raven sat on the edge of his bed dressed in only her shirt and underwear, the mechanic froze as she was pulling on one of her socks. Her gaze wandered toward Bellamy, who was hiding the lower half of his body underneath the blankets they had found in the depot, his torso bare.

Y/N Franco had words and ideas for every situation, but as she found herself staring at the frozen pair, her mouth refused to work as she stuttered out a series of filler words.

Everything came crashing down at once.

Pain shot through her heart, spreading across her chest and lighting her body on fire. Every emotion she had ever felt toward the two of them culminating in the mantra that she had abandoned.

Love is weakness.

Except this wasn't love. This was betrayal. This was confusion. This was humiliation. This was anything but love.

She spun on her heel, walking away from the tent. Away from the scene that permeated her mind. Away from the numbness that took hold.

"Y/N," Miller asked, concern lacing his features. "Are you okay?"

She could only shake her head as she sat down slowly, staring deep into the fire as the other campers stared at their leader, having never seen her like this before. Bellamy called after her, the muffled sound crashing against her brick wall.

Disgust filled her body at the sound, her anger joining the emotions to create a sick concoction in her stomach as Miller watched his best friend tear herself apart.

She had trusted him. Let down her walls for him. She had cared for him, told him things she had kept from others her whole life. She had loved him and he had thrown it back in her face.

She grit her teeth, anger cutting through the numbness to fuel her. There were people waiting for her, people who needed her help. Clarke and Finn were out there.

"Y/N--" Miller cut through her thoughts, silencing himself as he saw Bellamy approach the firepit. He stood up, putting the pieces together as he caught the regretful look on the soldier's face. Miller felt rage stir in his stomach at the thought of him hurting his best friend and he clearly wasn't the only one. Octavia had joined him as they faced the older leader.

"Don't even think about it" Miller shot at the older guard, placing his hand on Bellamy’s chest.

A pleading look crossed Bellamy's face. "Please, just let me talk to her."

Miller refused to budge.

"There's nothing to talk about" Y/N's cold voice rang from the firepit as she stood up, her icy gaze landing on Bellamy's pleading one before turning toward Octavia. "Grab your things, we're headed after Finn and Clarke."

The younger girl nodded, grasping Bellamy by the arm before he could run after her, "You've done enough." She spoke, leaving him alone in the middle of the camp, watching in baited breath as Y/N disappeared inside the dropship, the familiar numbness taking hold.

"Is everything okay?" Monty asked, watching as the engineer finished the last walkie talkie with more force than she'd usually use.

"Yeah" She spoke, lying through her teeth, "Grab your stuff we're headed after Clarke, Finn, and Myles."

The smaller kid nodded, pausing as footsteps made their way up the dropship, Y/N growing tense at the sound of Raven's voice.

"Hey did you guys get those walkies fixed--" She stopped when her eyes met Y/N's.

Tension filled the room as the two girls stared at each other, Monty wishing he would disappear.

"Y/N listen I didn't know--"

"Shut it Raven and stop lying," She cut the mechanic off, drawing a surprised look from Monty. "Besides, There are more important things at stake here than hurt feelings."

Y/N whipped around, facing the mechanic with a cynical smile on her face. "You know other people exist outside your bubble Raven, but I suppose that would get in the way of using sex as a coping mechanism, wouldn't it?" She moved forward pressing a radio into her chest, "Don't worry, I fixed your damn walkie."

She stormed out of the dropship, gun in hand as they began to search the woods.

"Anyone see anything?" Monty's voice rang through the walkie as the ground crunched underneath their feet, rifles at the ready.

"Not yet" Raven whispered into the walkie, an unsure look drifting toward Y/N as the two women drifted through the forest. Octavia had insisted on talking with Bellamy and going with him, which only left Raven and Y/N together.

"I just want to say I'm sorry." Raven brought up, causing her to tense up. "It was a stupid mistake and you were right. I was using him as a way to cope instead of dealing with my feelings."

She remained silent as they stalked through the forest.

"Y/N please," The other woman grasped her wrist, pulling her back. "You have to believe that it didn't mean anything,"

"That doesn’t make it okay Raven." Y/N ripped her wrist away, "You can't just sleep with someone to make yourself feel better," She snapped, turning around before pausing. She faced the mechanic again, "You could've talked to me. I would've understood."

Raven was speechless until Monty's voice came over the radio once again.

"Is anyone else hearing the exodus black box signal right now?"

Y/N grasped the radio from Raven's hand before responding to Monty again, "If you hear it again, you get out of there okay Monty?" Her voice was desperate, pleading for him to survive. 

"Keep the moon on your left," Bellamy's voice ordered, her stomach stirring in anger as the sound came through the speaker, "You should be able to find us then."

A low moan was heard from the bushes and the two women clicked their guns in place, the barrel staring down the moving bush. They crept forward, ignoring the tension that existed between them, ignoring the silence that now draped itself across the forest.

The groan filled their ears once again and Raven nodded before Y/N pulled the bush apart, pointing her rifle at a shaking kid.

"Myles?" She asked in disbelief, lowering the gun as she stared at the pale bloodstained face of the younger delinquent.

"Bellamy, Monty" Raven's voice spoke through the radio, "We found Myles, he needs to get back to camp immediately."

"F-Finn and Clarke" Myles squeaked out, his trembling fingers wrapping themselves around Y/N's shoulders.

"Where are they?" She asked, eyes growing wide in urgency at the thought of Clarke not making it.

Myles gulped, one word falling off of his lips. "Grounders."

Bellamy and Octavia joined them a little while later, the siblings staring in shock at the shaking kid. "Where are Finn and Clarke?" Octavia asked, unable to tear her eyes away from Myles.

"Grounders took them," Raven explained.

"We won't be able to find them in the dark." Y/N clenched her jaw at the sound of Bellamy's voice, "Besides we need to get him back to camp."

The other two nodded as they leaned down to carry Myles back, Y/N fingering the walkie before calling Monty.

"Monty, we're headed back, do you copy?"

Silence.

She creased her eyebrows in fear.

"Monty, I repeat, do you copy?"

The only response was the crackling of the radio in her hands. The walk to the camp was silent, Bellamy and Y/N refused to even look at each other, while Raven and Octavia placed Myles down in the dropship.

Without saying another word, she marched to her tent, throwing the rifle to the ground before she zipped it up behind her.

Monty was gone. Finn was gone. Clarke was gone.

She held her head in her hands as her thoughts drifted upward. She wished her mother was here, wished Wells was here, she even wished Marcus was here to tell her what to do. All of her anger faded until she was left with nothing but pain.

Pain at Raven's betrayal. At Bellamy's betrayal.

Was it even a betrayal if there was nothing there in the first place?

But there was something there. There had to be. He had become her reason for living, her reason for surviving. Who was she if she didn't have that down here?

Like she said, he was all she had left, and now she didn't even have him.

She had trusted him and he betrayed that trust by ripping her heart out like it was nothing. Like it was second nature to him. And now only pain remained in that hollow cavity.

The unzipping of her tent made her freeze, wiping what little tears had spilled out from under her eyes before facing the intruder, pulse racing as she saw who it was.

"Leave me alone" She uttered coldly.

"Y/N please let me explain--"

She whipped around, heart melting at his pleading gaze. But her wall was up and this time nobody would get past it.

"No" She snapped, moving toward him, "You don't get to explain, not after what you did." She directed everything she was feeling at him until he crumbled.

Bellamy began to beg, hoping to reach the part of her that had fallen for him. "Please, I know I fucked up if you just gave me a chance--"

"I gave you a chance Blake" She snarled back, "I gave you a hundred chances! And I would've given more until you decided to sleep with one of my closest friends."

Silence sat between them, the tension pushing them further and further apart.

"Why did you do it?" Her voice quivered as she asked the question, "How could you do it?"

Bellamy moved closer, his jaw clenched, "She came to me, she was the one who wanted it."

Y/N shook her head incredulously, "Don't you dare try and pin the blame on her, she owned up to her mistake, you haven't. You had a choice and you chose wrong."

"You wanna know why I did it?" Bellamy asked, his tone growing darker as he moved closer, Y/N pushing herself backward. "You shut me out" He blamed, "You left me alone in the camp while you went to go blow up a bomb, you refused to talk to me about anything regarding the Ark. You pushed me away. You pushed me toward Raven because I was trying to forget about you."

She stepped backward, caught off guard at the admission, sucking in her breath sharply as guilt wracked her chest, the back of her thighs against the worktable, stuck against the working area as Bellamy moved closer, eyes scanning her for a reaction.

"Your safety is all I think about. You are all I think about. Before I go to bed, when I wake up. Before I even consider the others I always have to ask whether it's safe enough for you. I can't get you out of my head!" His gaze flickered down to her lips, pondering the movement for a second before speaking softly, "And I don't want to."

She flicked her gaze upward, tilting her chin to meet his, silver bracelet digging into her skin, three words dripping venomously from her lips. All too reminiscent of the last time she stood in this position. 

"Love. Is. Weakness."

Bellamy's face crumbled, his mouth trying to form words but being unable to. Pain swirled in his eyes as he stared down at her.

"Now get. out." She commanded.

He clenched his jaw, nodding weakly as he turned on his heel, ignoring the lump forming in his chest. Bellamy disappeared and Y/N collapsed, leaning against the leg of the table as saltwater hit her cheeks. She couldn't stop the sobs from coming any more than she could stop the grounders from marching.

Her tent flew open and she scrambled atop her bed, not wanting anyone else to see her like this. "God, can you not take a hint?" She snapped at the intruder.

"Not down here apparently," Miller's soothing voice called to her and she dropped her walls. "Don't worry, no one else knows."

She collapsed into Miller's arms, his heartbeat keeping her grounded as her hysterical sobs rang through the tent. "Why couldn't I let him stay? What did I do wrong? Why did he leave?" She whispered her doubts into Miller's chest as he ran his hands through her hair and up and down her spine, the calming effect not nearly as powerful.

Because as much as she loved Miller, there was one thing he wasn't.

He wasn't Bellamy.

Ugh this one hurt. Don’t worry, like I said it will all get resolved by the end of the season.

Please like and reblog and feel free to shoot me an ask anytime! I love talking about my stories!

Permanent Tag List (open): @begonebirds @iamaunicorn4704​@galacticstxrdust​

Tag list (now open!): @chloe-skywalker​@im-a-writer-right​@galacticstxrdust​@clarkewithameme​@shatteredlovesick​ @your-typical-giggle​ @rhyxn​ @amongthewildthingss​ @furiouspockettoad​ @niammain​ @cxddlyash​ @lena-davina​ @kaylinfayezink​​ @gingerxarmy​​ @super-marvel-dale​​ @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo​​ @nerdbookish​​ @valeskasecco @strangerliaa​​ @simsvetements​​ @molethemollie​ @thebookisbtr @im-a-stranger-thing @jordangdelacruz​ @oopsiedoopsie23 @multifandombookstore​ @okj232​ @asian-male-enthusiast​

Please like, comment, and reblog!

[spacewahker]

I promise I will never forget it again.

Summary: "You need to remember, Clarke. You have to stop repressing yourself and your feelings. You can't fight when you're holding yourself back," Harper touched her arm soothingly and Clarke was suddenly thrown by the reminder that she was a mother. "But Clarke," Monty looked worried, "you can't lose yourself in your memories, that's what she wants. You need a tether, a happy memory or something that will anchor you back so you won't get lost; so you won't forget." Clarke needs to break free of Josephine (6x07 spec).

Or read on AO3

"Well this is new." Clarke turned from the locked prison door to find a girl sitting on her previously unoccupied bed. She was pretty, blonde, her hair tied in a way that reminded Clarke of herself, and was observing her with an odd expression that looked almost like curiosity. "I take it you're Clarke then," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she stood up. She extended a hand, "Josephine Lightbourne." Clarke didn't take it.

"Where am I?" Josephine lowered her hand and began to wander, her eyes wide with fascination. "Interesting," she muttered, gazing around the room of pictures, "I'm impressed." Something felt off about this girl, but Clarke's mind was still fuzzy and the voices still echoed in her head. She closed the space between them, her expression hard, "let me out of here." Josephine continued to look around, seemingly unfazed by Clarke's aggressive stance. "Why would I do that?" Clarke narrowed her eyes, the uneasy feeling the girl gave her only made the voices louder. "Besides," Josephine reached a hand out to touch a picture of Madi, "I might say, I'm intrigued." The moment her hand touched the charcoal, a surge of unreasonable anger pulsated through Clarke and she swung a hand at the other girl. Josephine reacted, but not fast enough, and she slammed into the wall behind her. She gave a small laugh and raised an eyebrow, but something in her tone told Clarke she wasn't joking anymore. "Now that's a bit violent." The voices started to get louder, Clarke's thoughts a fuzzy mess as the cacophony of sounds bounced across the walls. Her head pounded. She wasted no time in pinning Josephine to the wall, "Let. Me. Out." But this time, Josephine was ready and she swiped at Clarke's legs in a desperate attempt to get away. In the struggle, the glimmer of a key on the other girl's pocket caught Clarke's attention. Josephine's eyes flickered to where she was looking. "No don't!" Clarke connected her knee to Josephine's stomach, the other girl keeling over as she swiped the key from her and ran back to the door. Clarke fumbled with the prison key, her breathing sharp and fast as she tried to calm her hand. She glanced back at Josephine's heaving figure on the jail floor, feeling dread creep through her veins. Steadying her hand, she jammed the key in and threw her body at the unlocked door, not taking a second to slam it behind her. Clarke was ready to run when the smell of pine and woodsmoke hit her. The air was cleaner, fresher, the light natural, and as her vision cleared, she realised she stood in a wooden cabin. Long drapes lined the windows, drawings scattered across the walls, a backpack leaned against a wall. Clarke was home; where she and Madi had lived for six years. She walked in further, breath short and eyes threatening tears. There was a figure at the table. She recognised him. "Dad?" It was a whisper, a sound of disbelief. He turned around, eyes crinkling at the sight of his daughter, "Hello, sweetheart." She felt the breath leave her body. It was unmistakably him. Her father. Without skipping a beat, she fell into his arms, small and protected in his embrace. She felt like a kid again and he felt warm and safe and real. Real? She took a step back. "How is this possible," she shook her head, "how are we here?" "What's the last thing you remember," his tone was sombre and Clarke felt her heart sink as she searched for an answer. "I died." - The Commander of Death. Clarke knew death. She'd brought enough souls to him, quenched his thirst with their blood, traded their lives for those of her people. It was only fair that it be her turn. Death was always there, watching, waiting, his thin, tapering fingers wrapped around her neck, slowly pulling her away from her friends, from her life. She'd often wondered how he would take her, and if she would go willingly. Would it be sudden or slow? Would she see it coming? Perhaps she'd sacrifice herself and die like she should have in Praimfaia. Death had had her in his grasps more times than she could count, and yet still she didn't know. Clarke guessed she had her answer now. It was... disappointing. In the end, Death found her paralysed, alone, crying out for help when no one could hear her, where no one would find her. Why had she survived Praimfaia, survived in isolation, slept for two-hundred years to die just like that? Perhaps it was divine justice. Her penance for the lives she had ended. She'd fed death for too long and he had grown bored of her souls. He wanted hers, and now he had it. But nestled in the warmth of her father's embrace, Clarke softened. Maybe this was what she deserved. And didn't she seek Death, hadn't she wanted this, didn't she ask for it, didn't she ask for it? "What are you thinking 'bout, kiddo?" Clarke smiled into his arms, but it faltered as she thought of what to say. She'd never told anyone of her thoughts, of her fears, but perhaps her Dad would see. She stayed silent for a long moment before speaking, and when she did, she found that her voice was small and broken, "If this is what I wanted." For a long time, he didn't speak, only rubbing small circles into her shoulders. Then he stopped, and pulled her back to look into her eyes, "I think you need to figure that out yourself." "How do I do that?" He pulled her closer and smiled down into her hair, "you'll have to decide whether or not you want to fight back." Clarke furrowed her brow. "Dad?" "I think you know what I mean." She took a step back. "You can stay here, stay here with me," he gestured to the drawings, "with whoever you want, or you can fight for your body," he looked to the door at his left, "I think you'll have your answer then." She considered it. The warmth of the cabin, the feeling of sunlight on her skin, the sound of Madi's laughter outside and the echo of another's distant voice. The truth was so dark, so cold... but here, here she belonged. She could do what she wanted, be with who she wanted... Maybe this was how she got to peace. Got to peace? She glanced at the door behind her, at the drawings on the walls, the faces blurry and just out of reach. She looked back at her dad and he smiled, knowing what she was about to do. "It's okay." There was a lump in her throat as she spoke, breaking her voice in a way that sounded unrecognisable. "I love you, Dad," a tear fell down her cheek and her final words caught in her throat. She thought she heard his reply as she stepped through the door, but the sounds and warmth of the cabin immediately vanished past the frame. The room melted from wood to metal, lengthening out into a long corridor which darkened as sunlit windows vanished and were replaced by glass which held the inky nothingness of space. At the end of the hall was a red door, upon which hung leafy wreathes embedded with red berries, and in front of it stood Josephine, now recovered from her injuries. - Josephine smiled, "So we meet again." Clarke didn't waste time on greetings. "Russel really did it, he stole my body?" Josephine nodded slowly, "And clearly made a mess of it. It's been hundreds of years since a mind-wipe failed, but I've got to say," she locked eyes with Clarke, "this isn't bad." She quickly clarified. "Not as organised as my mind-space of course, but," she shrugged, "mildly impressive." "Mind-space?" "The brain creates these constructs when two minds share a body," she explained, walking around the Ring corridor, "like lucid dreaming only, not as fun. It's a self-preservation thing. Trying to keep the minds separate so the body doesn't die." She turned back to Clarke, her tone condescending, "You kinda messed that up when you opened the door so, you know, thanks for the accelerated brain deterioration." "Wait," Clarke shook her head slightly, "you've been through this before?" "Never anything as advanced as this but, yeah, back in the day before Gabriel perfected the mind wipe there were a few mishaps. I got jacked into some people's minds when the lights were still on. They were so average." "What happened?" Clarke asked, although she felt she already knew the answer. "The first was a six-month old; her mind was... unformed, full of chaos and shapes and sounds. Then there was Savannah. I swear I was not that obnoxious at fifteen." Clarke stared blankly at the floor, "Then they died." "Brain haemorrhaging leads to stroke, then we all fall down. It's messy and hurts like a mother," she shook her head as if to shake away the memory, "would not recommend." Her nonchalance made Clarke feel sick. "So I'm going to die. Is that it?" "Only if you don't get back in that box," Josephine shrugged, "It's all the same for me. I'll just be transferred to a new body if you die, but," she watched Clarke carefully, "It'll be easier for both of us if you just go back." Clarke gave a small laugh her heart wasn't in, "I don't go down that easy." "You're already dead, there is no 'going down'. Everyone out here has already accepted it - although it did take a bit of convincing. You keep running around and it's just pointless for all of us." Clarke felt her heart sink. They'd given up on her already. What had it been? A day? A week? She didn't know. But they'd given up. Her mum, Madi, Bellamy... Seeing Clarke's expression, Josephine smiled, "Don't look so glum. They think you're dead, then they'll survive. You can stay in your memories here - or create new ones - I don't care." Her comment made Clarke pause, "Think I'm dead?" Josephine stopped for a split second, before her calm demeanour came back, "Just a figure of speech." But it was enough to alert Clarke. "What's that door behind you?" Josephine stopped her pacing, "Look, you don't want to do this. We'll both just end up dead - well you will anyway - but I'm going to have to go through the pain. Just, go back to your cell and you can sit with your drawings like the rest of them." Clarke took a threatening step forward. "Get out of my way." Josephine sized her up but soon clearly came to the conclusion she wouldn't win. A second passed before she stepped to the side, throwing up her hands in defeat. "Fine. Do what you want. It's not going to work. Actually," she paused a second, "this might be better anyway." Pushing past the other girl, Clarke reached for the door handle. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She pushed the door open and stepped out, only to find herself in an identical corridor. She watched the door snap shut behind her and turned around to meet two familiar faces. - "Hey, Clarke." "Harper?" Clarke looked between them. "Monty?" She ran out to hug them, but when she stepped back she noticed something different. They smiled at her the same but their faces were younger, eyes less weary, Monty's hair was as she remembered it before Praimfaia and the two wore their clothes from the dropship days. Her smile faltered. "You're not real?" Her heart ached painfully as she looked into their eyes, and even as she said it, she didn't want to believe it. But she knew, she knew they were only memories. Figments of her subconscious. Harper shook her head, "No, but Clarke, it doesn't matter, you don't have much time." Clarke vaguely noticed the corners of the Ring's wall begin to blur as the lights dimmed and brightened. She pinched her eyes shut. "Your brain is beginning to deteriorate," Monty explained, "your memories are folding, mixing with one another." "Clarke, you need to tell the others you're alive." "How?" Clarke asked, searching wildly down the hall which stopped at its red-door replica. "The flame organised your mind into files when you went into the City of Light," Monty continued on hurriedly, "that's why you're still conscious, but to overpower Josephine you need a kind of boost to push you to the surface." "What does that mean?" "You need to remember, Clarke. You have to stop repressing yourself and your feelings. You can't fight when you're holding yourself back," Harper touched her arm soothingly and Clarke was suddenly thrown by the reminder that she was a mother. "But Clarke," Monty looked worried, "you can't lose yourself in your memories, that's what she wants. You need a tether, a happy memory or something that will anchor you back so you won't get lost; so you won't forget." Clarke took a breath, "How long do I have?" "Before she wakes up, so, not long." She nodded, "What do I need to do?" "Don't stop," he nodded at the red door at the end of the corridor, "you'll know what to do." Clarke walked with the pair down the corridor. She touched the door handle before looking back at them. "Thank you," she said, and she wasn't sure if her vision blurred because of her head or the tears, "for everything." Harper smiled sadly, "you get back there and take care of our boy." "He's good," Clarke said through tears, "too good. He reminds me of you." The lights at the end of the hall dimmed and she could no longer see where she came from. She hugged the two fiercely, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. You should've been able to see it - to see him. It's not fair. It's not fair at all." "We got what we wanted," Harper said softly into her shoulder, "there's nothing to be sorry about." Clarke let out a sob for her lost friends as the lights faded one by one and she could no longer make out their faces, before she turned around and stepped through the open door. - Humming. It's the first thing she heard as she walked through the door. The air was clean again, the ground soft, and Clarke knew she was back on Earth. She stumbled for a moment until, through the gaps in the trees, she saw the source of the humming; herself. "I'm going to help you." Clarke heard the moment echo in her head. She knew what she was seeing. For a moment, her eyes flickered to the boy beside her, and Clarke's heart leapt into her throat. That dark curly hair, freckled face... it was Bellamy. And she... she was so young. Clarke watched as she slid the blade into Atom's neck, pushing hair from his face, humming that haunting tune. As the light left the boy's cloudy eyes, Clarke felt the dead hands reach for her skin. This was the first life she'd taken. The first of many. She opened her mouth to say something, but the scene changed, and suddenly she was in the middle of a war-zone. She watched as a boy, who could be no older than fifteen was skewered by a grounder blade, another died beside him. Blood pooled at her feet, but Clarke could only watch as the other her stood at the door to the Dropship, screaming for the others to get inside. She knew how this ended, felt Death's grasp grow tighter, but she was paralysed to the ground, unable to do a thing. She saw herself make eye contact with Bellamy from across the clearing, saw the realisation dawn in her eyes, and watched as she pulled the lever and the ground erupted in flames. They licked at her skin, the grounders around her screaming as their flesh melted in the fire. She was burning, drowning in the flames, but in the immense heat she heard a voice call out to her. "Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things." Her vision cleared. She was standing at the edge of a crater, the smell of burning flesh still at her nose as she watched the flames dance across what was left of TonDC. She can't see herself this time, but Clarke doesn't need to to know that this was her. A white horse ran across the horizon, a tail of flame chasing it, and Clarke thought of Death. Did he want this? Or was it all her? "I did it to save Bellamy." Clarke gasped for breath as she woke up, her surroundings clean and white. Finding she could move, Clarke walked down the familiar corridor, taking in its white tiles, fluorescent lights, and circular windows. She's dreamed about this place before. Clarke continues to walk until she comes to a door with a broken window. Through the shard glass, she can see a painting. The starry night. "I've got to give it to you, this is different." Clarke whipped around to see Josephine leaning lazily against the opposite wall. "Most people can't get past the first - but then again," she watched Clarke carefully, "you're not like most people, are you?" "Get out of my head," Clarke muttered loudly, pushing past the other girl to continue down the hall. "So what are you going to do here?" Josephine asked, following Clarke. There was almost a hint of excitement in her voice. "Burn it down again? Oh wait," she rounded on Clarke, "I got it. This is that facility, isn't it? Mount Weather, right?" At Clarke's silence, she made a joyous noise, but she didn't follow the other girl, and as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. A gunshot sounded from the door to Clarke's left and she froze. She knew which gun it must have sounded from. Blood running cold and Death at her heels, Clarke opened the door and walked through. - "Clarke. We're out of time." The room is dark, lit only by the monitors which the three stare at with glassy eyes. Clarke knows what will happen, knows that this moment will haunt her for the rest of her life, knows that Death will never let go after this, but she doesn't stop herself. In the room, alone with her memories, Clarke stands still and watches. "My sister, my responsibility." The room begins to darken and Clarke feels her memory close in on herself. "I have to save them." As her hand touches the lever, a part of Clarke's soul fractures. She can only see herself and the lever and Clarke feels herself slipping. It's almost like rain. Fuzzy at first, so she can't see it, can't feel it. Then it gets harder, and before she knows it, it falls. She's falling. Slipping like rain, hurtling towards Earth; towards hell. Death waits to embrace her as she falls and Clarke's memories fall with her. Why is she fighting? Why fight when the fall is so easy? Then a hand touches hers and Clarke sees him too. "Together." Her hurtling slows. They pull the lever and although Clarke's soul breaks in two, the darkness stops. It might just be the two of them, but she can see again. She can see. "You need a tether, a happy memory or something that will anchor you back... so you won't forget." So she won't forget. "I promise I will never forget it again." She's falling again, but it's the right kind of fall. A million memories pass by, a million moments, until Clarke finds the one. The one she regrets. The sky is a pale orange as Praimfaia approaches on the horizon. Clarke stands at a distance, the only one without a hazmat suit, and watches as the four begin to part ways. The old her steps forward. "Bellamy!" "Clarke, if this is one of those moment where you tell me to use my head-" "No. I was just going to say..." It hangs in the air for a moment; a moment where she should have said something, where she should have known... she should have known that they'd never see one another again. Of course fate would pair them like this. She should have known. Clarke had replayed this moment a million times over and yet, she still didn't know what she would say. But she knows what she did say. "...hurry." "You too." He makes to leave. "Bellamy." The sound comes out of the real Clarke's mouth, and she surprises herself as the group turns to her, frozen in time. She looks at herself, the heartbreak in her eyes, and back to Bellamy. The boy she'd never see again. In a second she's thrown herself around him, arms clasped tightly around his back. She knows it's only a memory, but it feels so real. She breaths out a ragged sob. "We'll meet again," she whispers into his suit, the tears on her face evaporating in the heat, "I promise." He'd find his way back six years later. Clarke would break free. She had to. She'd promised. - Clarke squints as the lights above her burn into her retina. She's faintly aware of the scream that leaves her mouth as she looks around at the faces above her. Russel is cupping her face whispering, "Josie," and she recoils immediately. Her eyes search the room before they land on one face. His face. He's watching her hesitantly, his eyes red and hesitant at her gaze. "Bellamy?" The sound leaves her mouth involuntarily. Pain and anger flash in his eyes and he glances away. "Stop." But Clarke sits up, choking on tears, refusing to give up, "Bellamy." For a second, he looks at her - really looks at her - and as his eyes change from hesitance to hope, Clarke knows that he knows, but then her vision blackens and she's back in her cell, staring at the pictures on the walls. But she promised. She promised.

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Six Baudelaires AU, Part Three {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Twenty-Eight → in which Everything Goes to Shit

It was a bit hard to walk down the hall blindfolded. 

Frank or Ernest took Lilac’s hand to lead her down the hall, and she took Violet’s, who took Nick’s, who took Klaus’s, who took Soli’s, who took Sunny’s. They stumbled down, hoping very much that they wouldn’t run into anything, and the manager wouldn’t lead them off the stairs without warning. Thankfully, he managed to get them into the elevator, and he found the button for the ground floor so he could lead them down. They stumbled out into a large crowd, and they gripped very tightly onto each others’ arms so they couldn’t get separated. 

“Attention!” Justice Strauss yelled over the noise, beating onto wood with a gavel. “Attention everyone! The trial is about to begin! Everyone please take your seats!” 

“We can’t see shit!” Nick shouted. 

“Feel around with your hands!” Justice Strauss said. “Move to your right. Further. Further. Further. Furth-” 

“Ow!” 

“Not that far. There! Sit! Now the rest of you do the same!” 

It took several minutes for everyone to find their seats- the Baudelaires sat beside each other somewhere in the front row, while Frank or Ernest wandered off somewhere, seemingly able to find his way just fine. 

“Alright! You may remove your blindfolds briefly!” 

“Why couldn’t we have done this five minutes ago?” Nick grumbled as he removed his blindfold, and then leaned over a struggling Klaus to help Solitude with hers. 

“You see,” Justice Strauss announced, as Solitude helped Sunny with her blindfold, “Justice may be blind, but evidence must be seen to be believed. You will put the blindfolds back on for the verdict.” 

“That makes no sense.” Klaus said. 

“Nothing makes sense, Klaus, get used to it.” Lilac sighed. 

“I am.” he groaned. 

Justice Strauss pounded her gavel. “All rise for the High Court Judges, myself and my esteemed colleagues.” 

She gestured up, and as they stood, the Baudelaires could see two distant figures, several floors up and leaning over the railing. 

“Why are they so high up?” Solitude asked. 

“The High Court decided to interpret their name literally.” Justice Strauss said. “You may sit.” She waited a moment for everyone to take their seats before continuing. “Now, it has come to the attention of the High Court that certain wicked deeds have gone unpunished, and that this wickedness is continuing at an alarming rate. We planned to hold a trial on Thursday, but after the death of Mr Denouement, it is clear we should proceed earlier, in the interests of justice and nobility. We will hear what each witness has to say and determine once and for all who is responsible. The guilty parties will be turned over to the authorities, who are waiting outside to make sure nobody will try to escape.” 

Lilac slowly reached over to squeeze Violet’s hand as she glanced around the crowd, trying to decide if they had a good chance or not. 

“Count Olaf, our defendant, is seated in his own box where he can’t sneak out the back.” Justice Strauss said. 

“Yes,” Olaf said, and the Baudelaires snapped their heads to the side, seeing that he was in a small area against the wall, “As if I’d do anything so treacherous.” 

“The High Court and I have already looked over my evidence,” Justice Strauss held up a large book, entitled Odious Lusting After Finances, “And now all that is left is to hear from the defendants. Baudelaires, you are our first witnesses. I call you to the stand.” 

Slowly and shakily, the Baudelaires got to their feet, with Nick and Klaus helping Soli and Sunny down. Babbitt hopped from Soli’s pocket to her shoulder, nuzzling up against her for comfort. The twins helped the youngest children onto the edge of the bench before seating themselves, while Lilac and Violet sat at the other end. 

“Please state your names.” Justice Strauss said. 

“Lilac Emily Baudelaire.” 

“Violet Malina Baudelaire.” 

“Nick Liam Baudelaire.” 

“Klaus Louis Baudelaire.” 

“Solitude Theodora Baudelaire.” 

“Sunday Theo-dora Bau’elaire!” 

Justice Strauss smiled slightly, despite herself. “Occupations?” 

“Mechanic.” 

“Inventor.” 

Nick took a moment to respond. “E-Explorer?” 

“Researcher.” 

“Herpetologist!” 

“Chef!” 

“I object!” Olaf called. “Their proper occupations are ‘orphan, or inheritor of a large fortune.’” 

“Witnesses cannot object.” Justice Strauss sighed. “I caution the defendant about speaking out of turn.” 

“I caution the defendant about speaking at all.” Nick said, in a very low voice, so only his siblings could hear. 

“Baudelaires,” Justice Strauss said, “You have traveled a great distance and suffered a great deal, but now it is finally time for you to tell your story. We want you to tell us everything.” 

The siblings, all sitting as close to each other as they could, clasped hands very tightly. They looked out into the crowd; they recognized some faces, and some faces they didn’t. Some might listen to them, and some may not. Nick was shaking, and Sunny was biting her lip, and Soli leaned onto Klaus’s arm. They knew that most of the people here were Volunteers, and some were Firestarters, and some had just been caught up in the crowd to enjoy the show. They knew, from what Nick had implied, that the Volunteers could not help them, and from experience that the Firestarters definitely wouldn’t, and nobody else was reliable. 

It was just them. But maybe that was all they needed. 

“It began one gray and cloudy day.” Lilac said, her voice choked up; she still looked dazed, and she carefully moved her hand away from Violet to push back her braids. “Our… our parents let us take the trolley down to Briny Beach to spend the day, so long as we were home for supper.” 

“We were testing an invention Klaus and I had worked on.” Violet whimpered. “It worked.” 

“That’s when we saw a figure coming from the fog.” Lilac said. 

“It was Mr Poe.” Nick said, spotting the banker in the crowd. “He told us…” 

After several seconds of torturous silence, Klaus said, “He told us our parents had perished in a terrible fire.” 

“He sent us to live with that bastard over there, if the Court will pardon my figurative use of the term.” Nick said, giving Olaf a death glare. 

“We went to live with Count Olaf, who…” Violet took a deep breath. 

“Who decided he wanted to make our lives miserable.” Solitude said. 

“Sertam!” Sunny said, which meant, “He gave us one bed and forced us to work for him!” 

“He struck Klaus across the face!” Lilac shouted, her voice breaking. 

“He tried to marry Lilac!” Klaus said. 

“He kidnapped Sunny and Soli and stuffed them in a birdcage to die!” Nick said. 

“He poisoned Uncle Monty and pushed Aunt Josephine to the leeches!” Violet started to cry. 

“He hypnotized Klaus and tried to force him to kill someone!” Solitude added. 

“Kidnapped the Quagmires!” Sunny said. 

“Yes,” Violet breathed slow, “He kidnapped the Quagmire triplets from Prufrock Prep!” 

“He teamed up with Esme Squalor and…” Nick trailed off, his eyes staring into nothing. 

Klaus grabbed his arm. “And they kidnapped Nick.” 

Nick flinched at Klaus’s touch, and started to cry. “They broke me.” he said, barely audible to the courtroom. “They… I can’t even say what they did! I couldn’t function! I… I still can’t even…” he shut his eyes and leaned onto Violet’s shoulder. 

“He hid them in the Village of Fowl Devotees.” Violet continued. 

“He murdered…” Lilac bit her lip. “He murdered Jacques Snicket!” 

“Framed us!” Sunny added. 

“He kidnapped Violet in the Heimlich Hospital!” Klaus said. 

“He drugged her and tried to cut off her head!” Lilac cried. 

“He pushed Madame Lulu to the lions!” Solitude said. 

Nick cried, “He kidnapped Sunny and forced us to help him set Caligari Carnival on fire!” 

“He tried to push us off a cliff!” Violet said. “He almost threw Sunny off the waterfall!” 

“Him and his horrible associates kidnapped the Snow Scouts!” Klaus said. 

“He captured the Queequeg and tried to let Soli die!” Lilac shouted. 

“He would have done worse if we hadn’t fought back!” Violet screamed. “He would have killed us if he had the chance!” 

“He could have done such terrible things!” Nick was sobbing now, gripping tight onto his siblings. 

“He is what is wrong with the world.” Klaus said. “He would have killed all of us. He would have assaulted our sisters. He would have torn us apart just because he’s sick.” 

“He’s a monster.” Lilac said. 

They all turned to look at Olaf, who didn’t even look uncomfortable. They wanted him to be uncomfortable. They wanted him to be scared. They wanted him to know that they were done with his bullshit, no matter what happened at trial. They were never letting him run their lives again. 

“And he’s gone unpunished because nobody listened.” Solitude said, frustration ebbing in her voice. 

“Everywhere we went,” Violet turned back to the crowd, her siblings following, “We tried to tell people! We tried to tell them he was following us! We tried to tell them he was after us!” 

“But they didn’t listen!” Klaus said, tears falling down his face. 

“Nobody would listen!” Violet’s voice broke as she also started to cry. 

“Nobody!” Nick shouted. “Not a single one of you! Or anyone outside! Nobody did anything just because we were children!” 

Sunny and Soli were crying, too. “Audit,” Sunny said, meaning, “People never listen to children.” 

Violet reached up to wipe her eyes, as she said, her voice cracking so much she could barely get the words out, “We lost everything.” 

What Lilac did next took only a few seconds, but it felt so much longer for Lilac as she turned and looked at her siblings. Gripping to each other, holding each other. 

They’d saved each other. More than she could count. 

Violet had come up with the plan for her to write with her left hand, and Nick and Klaus had freed the infants. They’d split up to prove Uncle Monty’s murder, and Solitude had released the reptiles to keep them from being caught by Count Olaf. Her and Klaus had figured out Josephine’s note, after she had gotten them out of dinner with Captain Sham, and then Violet and Nick sailed the boat, and she and Violet made a signal. They’d worked together to unhypnotize Klaus and the mill workers, and they’d worked together at Prufrock, and they’d worked together to try and save the Quagmires at 667 Dark Avenue; Sunny had crawled up an elevator shaft by herself, for fuck’s sake. Then in the Village, when they’d first made her promise to never sacrifice herself again, they’d worked together to decode Isadora’s poems, escape jail, and free the Quagmires, while Sunny and Soli drove them out of town. They’d taken care of Nick, who fought his trauma so much in order to help them. He was so brave, braver than he knew. They’d all saved Violet in the hospital, they’d all saved each other from the lion pit. They’d rescued Sunny from the slope while she discovered the last safe place, and they’d all saved Soli after the grotto, after breaking out of a brig. They’d sailed to Briny Beach, and infiltrated Hotel Denouement, and now they were still here. Still standing. Still alive. 

In those few seconds, Lilac realized something. 

Her siblings had grown up. And she was okay with that. 

But she realized something else, too- they were her siblings. Hers. And nothing- nothing- could take that from her. 

It was only a few seconds after Violet had said, “We lost everything,” before Lilac reached over, and grabbed her hand again, squeezing it tight and letting Violet collapse on her shoulder. 

And then Lilac said, her voice breaking as she spoke, “Except each other.” 

Nick watched her, and then announced, “We survived only because we knew we would stay together.” 

“We knew we had each other.” Klaus said. 

“And we knew that one day,” Solitude said, “Olaf would be gone.” 

“Whether he’d be dead in a ditch or rotting in prison,” Lilac spat, “We would one day be free.” 

“And we could move on.” Violet said. “And never have to fear for our lives again.” 

“Because we’ve been terrified.” Nick admitted. 

“We’ve almost died, and we’re only alive because of each other.” Klaus said. 

“And everything,” Sunny turned to glare at Olaf again, “Was because of him.” 

“The world will never be safe,” Klaus spat, “Until he is somewhere where he can never hurt anyone again.” 

“And only then,” Lilac finished, “Could we finally… go back to being people, and not fugitives or outlaws or orphans. Please.” She turned to the court, and begged, “We can never go back to who we were. But we would like to have peace, just for a little while.” 

They all fell silent, and the room felt very cold, very uncertain, and very frightening. So they held onto each other, holding onto the only warmth left in the world. 

“Thank you, Baudelaires.” Justice Strauss said quietly. “You may take your seats.” 

They stood up, with Nick lifting Solitude and Violet moving to lift Sunny, and then they walked back together, holding their heads high and ignoring the stares and whispers and chills. They sat again in the front row, still holding onto each other and refusing to let go. 

“And now,” Justice Strauss said, a hint of resignation in her voice, “Count Olaf is called to the stand.” 

Frank or Ernest stood next to Olaf to lead him to the stand. He didn’t look concerned, which was still worrying.

“He should be scared.” Klaus said quietly. 

“Why isn’t he?” Lilac said. 

“Maybe he’s pretending.” Violet said. 

“We all know he’s not that good of an actor.” Klaus said. 

Justice Strauss, contempt behind her eyes, said, “State your name.” 

“Count Olaf.” said Count Olaf. 

“Occupation?” 

“Impresario.” 

Klaus turned to his siblings and said, “We need to make sure he doesn’t lie again. Doesn’t cover up the truth.” 

They all nodded, and Nick gripped Solitude tighter. “Go.” he whispered. 

Klaus got to his feet, and he said, “Justice Strauss? I would like to question the witness.” 

Lilac jumped up to stand beside him. “We would like to question the witness.” 

Justice Strauss looked surprised, as the crowd continued to whisper. “Witnesses questioning a witness is not very normal.” 

“According to a book on criminal law I recently read,” Klaus said. “A witness may question another witness if they’re acting in loco advocatus.” 

“In the role of an attorney.” Nick translated for Sunny and Soli. 

Justice Strauss looked very pleased. “I see you’ve kept up your legal studies. Very well. Baudelaires, the floor is yours.” 

Lilac grabbed onto Violet and Klaus’s hands, and Nick clung to Klaus’s arm. They stepped up closer to the man, furious at the audacity he had to look smug. 

“Well, well, well.” he said. “You have some questions for me?” 

“We don’t need to know anything from you.” Lilac spat. “But we want to make sure you don’t lie your way out of this.” 

“Why, I’ve never told a lie in my life.” 

“That’s a lie.” Klaus said. 

“You can’t prove that.” 

“Oh, for the love of-” Lilac elbowed Nick before he could swear again in front of an official courtroom. 

“All you’ve done is lie.” Violet spat. “And steal and murder and assault and threaten and be a giant piece of- garbage.” 

“Trash.” Solitude agreed. 

“Shit.” said Sunny. 

“Have I?” Olaf raised his eyebrow. “And you think these people,” he gestured to the crowd, “Are going to lock me up? Put me away so you can go back to playing dolls?” 

“You’re a murderer,” Lilac said, “And these people are here to deliver justice.” 

“Do they, though? Do they deliver justice? They’re my associates.” Olaf said. 

“No, they’re not. There are Volunteers, Villains and sane people here.” Nick said, his voice low, his eyes on the wall so he didn’t have to look at Olaf, and arms gripping tightly onto Solitude, who was glaring at Olaf for him. 

“Really?” Olaf smirked darkly, and he scanned the crowd. “Because it seems to me that everyone here has helped me more than they helped you.” 

“Shut up.” Violet said, narrowing her eyes. 

“Look around, orphans!” Olaf said, standing up on the witness stand. “I see a banker who cares more about a promotion than six children, and only came here to investigate a stupid bank robbery.” 

“Vice President of Orphan Affairs!” Poe said. 

“I see two men who were too afraid to protect you.” Olaf gestured to Jerome and Charles, and then to Hal, “And a librarian who believed that you would intentionally destroy his life’s work just because I said so.” 

“Stop it.” Klaus said, gripping onto Nick. 

“I see a vice principal who let me into his school the second I stroked his ego,” Olaf said, “And the teachers who didn’t care enough to stop him. I see rich people who only cared about you because you were In, villagers who only took you in to do their chores, and volunteers-” he spat the word- “whose complicated codes and pretentious literary references are useless against the real treacheries of the world.” 

Then he turned to Justice Strauss, and said, “And presiding over us all, a justice so blind she let me marry you!” Lilac flinched back. “These so-called decent people have done more to help my schemes than any of my associates. They should be up here right now.” 

“They’re not.” Nick spat. 

“You are.” Klaus said. 

“And so are you.” Olaf turned his gaze to each of the six children in turn. “Tell me, who broke into my suitcase and stole one of my sailboats?” 

“You’re a villain, and we had to prove that.” Violet whimpered. 

“Who caused all the destruction at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill?” 

“He was hypnotized, you-” Nick began. 

“Who tried to break into jail, then broke out again, and stole a firetruck from the Village of Fowl Devotees?” 

“You were going to burn us at the stake!” Klaus shouted. 

“Who set Caligari Carnival on fire?” 

“You took Sunny!” Lilac said. 

“Who kidnapped Esme Squalor and held her hostage with intent to injure?” Olaf smirked. “Who did that?” 

Nick snapped, “Who did that to me, asshole? You had our sister and I knew what the hell you could have done to her, so we did what we had to!” 

“And that’s what everyone does, orphans.” Olaf said darkly. “What they think they have to. You did what you thought you had to. You have relied on treachery for survival, just like everybody else. Because here is the real truth no one is willing to tell you! There are no noble people in the world! Not even your stupid fucking parents!” 

Lilac took a deep breath, tears at the edge of her eyes, and then she said, “What part of torturing us was what you thought you had to do? What part of that?” 

Violet gripped her hand and nodded. “We may have done what we could to survive, but you did what you did because you’re a monster.” 

“Anyone can see that.” Klaus said. 

“And if they don’t…” Nick shut his eyes and hugged Solitude. “At least we will.” 

Olaf gave them a look. “You think you can justify this to yourselves? Anyone can justify anything to themselves.” 

“And you can justify the horrrible things you’ve done,” Nick snapped, his voice rising, “Just because of what our fucking parents did? We didn’t do jackshit to you son of a bitch!” 

The Baudelaires all froze, and then Olaf said, “Does that mean you told them, my dear Nick?” 

Nick’s eyes widened. “I-” 

He turned, in a panic, to Justice Strauss, who was incredibly confused, but caught onto his distress quickly. She banged her gavel, which caused everyone to jump, and she shouted, “That is enough! Frank- or Ernest, or- whoever! I have one more question for the witnesses and defendants before they return to their seats and we discuss sentencing. Beginning with you, Count Olaf-” she glared at him, and said, “Are you guilty or innocent?” 

Olaf’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “I’m unspeakably innocent.” he said. “I’m so incredibly innocent that the word ‘innocent’ ought to be written on my face in capital letters. The letter I would stand for ‘I’m innocent.’ The letter N would stand for ‘nothing wrong,’ which is what I’ve done. The letter A would stand for-” 

“That’s not how you spell innocent!” Klaus snapped. 

“I don’t think spelling counts.” Count Olaf grumbled. 

“Spelling counts.” said the judge. 

“Well, ‘innocence’ should be spelled O-L-A-F, and that’s the end of my speech.” Olaf said. 

Justice Strauss sighed, and then said, “Baudelaires. Now you. Are you guilty or innocent?” 

The Baudelaires all hesitated, looking to each other, the rest of the room melting away as they did. They had done good things, for good reasons, and bad things, for bad reasons, and mixtures between those. They were not noble people overall, they knew that. Nobody was. 

But next to Olaf? 

“We’re comparatively innocent.” said Lilac. 

“Alright.” Justice Strauss said. “Everyone please return to your seats and replace your blindfolds. It is time for the High Court to review their decision.” 

The children shuddered as they returned, and Nick and Violet helped the youngest children with their blindfolds. Ernest or Frank led Olaf to his seat, and after a silent moment, the kids heard Justice Strauss hmm. 

“Bene?” Sunny asked. “Is that good?” 

There was another hmm, a bit louder. 

“Justice Strauss?” Klaus asked, playing with his fabric. 

“Hmm!” 

Then they heard another voice, one they recognized immediately, as an aura of menace descended over the courtroom. 

“Do not worry about Justice Strauss. She is simply eating sour candy. Keep your blindfolds on.” 

“Man with beard!” Solitude shouted, and Babbitt let out a nervous chirp. 

The children grabbed each other, and Violet said, “What should we do?” 

“Peek!” Sunny said. 

“If we peek, we’ll be guilty of contempt of the court!” Klaus said, feeling Nick tremble beside him. 

“Everyone keep your blindfolds on, we are deciding on our verdict!” said the woman with hair and no beard. 

Lilac took a deep breath. “Maybe this court desserves contempt.” 

They all threw off their blindfolds, and gasped. Count Olaf was dragging Justice Strauss down from her podium, a gag over her mouth and a harpoon gun pointed to her neck. Rope hung from the higher floors, and the man with a beard but no hair and the woman with hair but no beard were standing beneath them, watching with some interest. 

“The Baudelaires have removed their blindfolds!” shouted the woman. 

“Everyone!” Violet shouted. “Count Olaf has escaped!” 

“He’s kidnapped Justice Strauss!” Nick screamed at the top of his lungs. 

“Don’t listen to the Baudelaires!” said the man. “They’re guilty of contempt of court!” 

“The High Court has been infiltrated by Firestarters!” Lilac said. 

“We are the authorities!” said the woman. 

“You can’t trust the authorities!” Klaus shouted. 

“Strauss!” Sunny said, pointing, as she was dragged away. 

Charles got to his feet. “I believe the Baudelaires! They’re noble people!” 

“I don’t believe them!” said Esme, jumping up from the back. “They tried to ruin my cocktail party!” 

“Is that still a thing?” Hugo asked. 

“They’re good children!” Jerome said. 

“They’re bad students!” Nero said. 

“They’re murderers!” said someone who might have been from the Village of Fowl Devotees. 

“They’re readers!” said a Volunteer. 

“They’re cakesniffers!” said Carmelita. 

“They’re children!” 

“They’re murderers!” 

“They’re orphans!” 

“We don’t have time for this!” Solitude shouted. 

“Later, bitches!” Lilac shouted, and they spun on their heels and ran after Count Olaf. 

Behind them, everyone was in disarray. Shouting and jumping up and trying to decide if it was worth it to believe them. Nobody thought to just look. Nobody ever looked. 

Olaf had dragged Strauss into an elevator, as she clutched Odious Lusting After Finances. He pressed a button to shut the door, but to everyone’s surprise, Klaus leapt forwards and pushed the doors back open. 

Olaf raised his eyebrow. “Going somewhere?” he said. 

“Wherever the fuck you’re going, bastard.” Violet said. 

Olaf watched them curiously, but did not move as the children ran into the elevator, just as the doors slammed shut. 

The elevator shot down to the basement, and as it did, Nick and Violet leapt onto Olaf, pummeling him with their fists and trying to rip Justice Strauss away. Olaf shouted, and Lilac and Klaus immediately jumped help, managing to pull Justice Strauss out of his grip as Soli and Sunny screeched and started biting at his ankles, with Babbitt jumping over to the judge so they didn’t get squashed. The siblings had been waiting for this a long while, and they weren’t going to waste time. 

Justice Strauss ripped her gag off, and said, “Baudelaires!” 

Lilac ripped his arm back, grabbing for his harpoon gun, while Violet kicked him in the shins and Nick and Klaus just started hitting anything they could reach. “Stupid! Mother! Fucker!” Klaus shouted. 

“We are going to fucking kill you!” Lilac said. 

“Piece! Of! Shit!” Violet said. 

“Bite his foot off, girls!” Nick encouraged. 

“Death!” Solitude shouted. 

“Fucker!” Sunny said. 

For the few minutes they were shooting down to the basement, they thought that maybe they could win. Lilac was close to wrestling the harpoon gun out of his grasp, so they could stab him with that, and once he was dead or dying, they could find some way out. Justice Strauss could clear things up, or they could go on the run. Anything would be better than letting the bastard live. 

And then Olaf kicked out, knocking Sunny and Soli across the elevator. Lilac gasped, momentarily distracted, and Nick leapt to grab them, which gave Olaf enough room to rip something from his belt. 

They all had an incredibly delayed reaction to what he did. Until the doors opened, they’d all frozen over, just staring as Olaf wrenched himself away, straightened up, darkly let his knife shine under the dim light, and once again pointed the gun at Justice Strauss. 

But then Lilac looked down at the blood on her dress, and the doors dinged, and their brains started working again. 

[pokemonshieldmonty]

Into the Weald and World

((Naturally this one’s spoilers since it’s on day one, though it only covers the first 20 minutes or so of gameplay. If you’re up for that, read on! Time for the first actual gameplay with Monty fanfic~))

Happened a little too quick for her--She knew adventure always did, in the stories her Pop told her, but Monty didn’t think she’d ever get to it herself. That crash, the Wooloo gone, and Hop charging off to see what’s up. Into the Slumbering Weald… But poor little Wooloo. She couldn’t leave it. Remembered all too well how bad it was, lost in a wood, and that was just the bright one down the way. 

“We should tell someone where we’ve gone,” she tried. Screwed up her courage. 

“No time for that,” Hop said. “Come on!” 

So they went. 

Into the Weald… Monty had never been in without Pop before, and that was just once, to fix the old gate when a Rookidee took off with the latch. Just two steps in was all they went. Bad enough. Who knew how far they’d go today… 

The tall grass rustled. Monty shouted warning, threw Scaevola’s ball. The small grey bird swooped away from her and fluffed angrily. Rookidee! Did thinking call the blasted thing? She remembered poor old Argyle running from a flock of them once before Pop’s Hakamo-o clanged them off. So grass was no good with birds… She looked at Scaevola, little thing gravely gripping that stick with his little left hand. But you’re all I’ve got. 

“Best make it quick, then.” 

 Few scratches, two Rookidees, and a Skwovet later, she caught Hop. “There ye are,” she gasped. The mist was heavy, hurting in her lungs. “Slow down!” 

“There you are,” he said, though he started off slower. “Come on, that little Wooloo’s in here somewhere. Doing alright, Grookey? I’ll keep you in top form.” 

Monty smiled a little as he sprayed a potion on Scaevola’s nicks. “Thanks, Hop. How’s your lot?” 

“We’re fine, don’t worry.” He was antsy now. Courage still, but still. The Slumbering Weald. 

 And then the mist rolled in too thick. Monty’s eyes went wide and she dragged her collar up to cover her nose. She heard Hop start to say something about can’t see his hand in front of his face, but her eyes were on the dark thing staring towards them. She felt it before she saw, but no way to be ready for the seeing.

Dog. 

Big dog. Monty swallowed her scream. Maybe the fog did too, hard to tell there. Scaevola’s shrill chirp grabbed her senses. So big… But nowhere to run. 

“Growl, Scaevola!” Maybe they could bluster this. 

Scaevola bared his little teeth his fiercest, but the thing just stared them down. 

“Wha--?” Hop cried. “The move had no effect on it?!” 

“I saw, I see.” Monty gritted her teeth. Didn’t want to make it mad, but-- “Try scratch!” 

Scaevola screeched and lunged--no go. Too go. Went right through. 

“Ghost type?” Monty breathed. Made sense. But no. It felt wrong. Not ghost. 

The dog howled and Monty did scream. A rush of fog, of fear. 

Hop was shouting something. Her name? “Monty! I can’t see anything! You okay?!” 

“No!” she all but wailed. “There’s a dog.” 

Hop’s incredulous stare was barely there in the mist. “We can’t see and can’t touch this thing and your big thing is it’s a dog?” 

“It’s a big thing, alright?!” She tried not to cry, tried hard. “Scaevola, your branch!” 

The little Grookey lunged. Something cracked. Dog’s eyes--the world--went white. 

Monty reached for something--anything--found small and warm. And nothing. 

 Pounding feet, pounding head, pounding lungs. Something small and warm. Monty groaned and sat up, stood slow. The Weald still… No dog. She breathed out long relief and coughed hard. Scaevola chirped and churred in her arms. 

“Ow…” So Hop was there too. That was good. 

“Hop! Monty!” Leon’s voice, then a Leon in the fog, then real and solid. Monty could hug him, except her arms were full of Grookey. She settled for helpless, helpless laughing. 

“Wha--? Lee?” Hop shook his head, gaping. “How’d you manage to find your way here? You’re pants with directions. You always get lost.” 

Monty’s laugh calmed into a soft chuckle. Hop joking like nothing happened. It was fine, it was fine… 

Leon put his hands on his hips. “Oh, that’s nice to hear from the little brother who had me worried sick! I’d been waiting ages for you two, and you never showed! Of course I came looking for the both of you.” 

Ages? Monty bit her lip and tried to think. Just how long were we in here? Oh--Mum will be so fretting. Scaevola chirped again, softly, and Monty smoothed his fur. “It’s alright, little one,” she murmured. Skies but she sounded hoarse. Oh… “The Wooloo, Hop.” 

He didn’t hear, but Hop was thinking the same by the sudden thunderstruck on his face. “Wait, where’s the Wooloo? We were trying to rescue that Wooloo!” 

Leon just smiled and turned so his cape stopped blocking their sight of the path behind him. Wooloo bleated happily, cozied up to his Charizard. “The little chap’s just fine,” he said, patting Hop’s shoulder. “Though all of you had fainted by the time I found you here.” His smile faded. “You know this place is out of bounds… But it took courage to come in here all the same. And I can understand well enough why you did it.” 

The smile turned back up again and his hand was back on his little brother’s shoulder. “You did good, Hop!” 

Hop grinned, proud and maybe a little sheepish. “And at least that Wooloo’s alright, yeah, Monty?” 

“Yeah…” Monty stroked Scaevola again. He was shaking, and that wasn’t mist that made his cheeks damp. Poor thing must’ve been scared. Some trainer I am, letting my Pokemon cry. 

Hop was telling Leon about the weird Pokemon, but Monty stopped listening again. Something was wrong with her Scaevola. 

“Where’s yer branch?” 

He made a throaty little sound that somehow held all the saddest feel that Monty’d ever heard. Monty walked over a little ways to where he pointed. It was on the ground still, must’ve been dropped… And broken. 

“Ohhh… My poor Scaevola.” Monty knelt and gingerly picked it up. It was still joined a little, the break only went maybe halfway through. So that was the crack she’d heard… “That’s no, no good. And my orders too…” 

He reached up and patted her cheek. Monty smiled through the threatening tears and scratched his ear. Didn’t blame her, even if she did. 

“You’re a good child,” she whispered. “Come on, it’s not gone yet.” She fished in her bag and found a roll of medical tape she kept for emergencies. “Maybe Mum can help.” 

“Hey? Monty?” Leon and Hop had finished talking. “Now don’t wander off and get lost again!” 

“I’m here, I’m here,” she called back. She picked up a few leaves and wrapped them like gauze around the broken stick, then taped them in place with a twig, a makeshift splint. “There, Scaevola. We’ll make it right.” 

He purred gently and patted her cheek again, then took the stick from her hand. Monty ruffled his fur. 

“All set?” Leon walked over to her. “Let’s get out of this place. You’ll be alright now that I’m here with you!” 

Hop grinned. “Even if we did get an earful from Lee, what an experience! This’ll make a pretty fine first page in the tale of my legend!”

Monty nodded and laughed. “As ye like it, silly boy.” She coughed into her collar again and waved off his worry. “Come on, I miss the sun.” 

 The way out seemed so much less than the way in. Sunlight again so soon had Monty squinting hard and Scaevola purring at the warm, warm light. Leon kept going on ahead. Hop turned back at the foot of the stairs to Monty’s house. 

“Don’t forget to tell your mum we’re off to Wedgehurst now,” he said. “She’ll go spare if you leave without a word--even worse than Lee just did!” 

Monty chuckled. “Ye think that was spare? Nah. I’ll catch you there, never fret. Come on, lil’ Scaevola. She’ll just love ye.” 

She sure did. Mum nearly dropped the dish she was washing as Scaevola chirped at her. “Well now, isn’t he just a sweetheart! And so you’re off to Wedgehurst? I heard the news from young Leon. I’m glad someone bothered to tell me!” 

Monty grimaced. “I tried, Mum. Hop’s pushy.”

Mum sighed. “I know, I know. That boy will get you in trouble, just watch. But since today’s the day…” She ducked into the cabinet and pulled out a small parcel. “Here we are. I got your Trainer Card a sleeve to keep the rain off, and a bit of pocket money from your Pop and me.” She waved off Monty’s thanks. “You waited this long, dear. You more than earned it. Buy a potion or two at the Pokemon Center when you get there.” She knelt to pat Scaevola’s head. “Remember this Grookey will battle to the very end for you, so don’t you go pushing the poor dear too hard! And you, Grookey, look after my little Monty!” 

“Mum,” Monty almost whined. “I’m not that little!” 

Mum laughed and compared their heights with one hand. “Little enough, I’d say. Chin up, dear! Come home to rest anytime that you need. After all… east or west, home is best. Ah, this brings back memories, doesn’t it, Argyle?” 

Argyle stretched and trilled sleepily from his sunny window box, then hopped down to shuffle over to Monty. She crouched as he bumped his head into her knee, and patted his soft fluff. 

“Before I go, Mum, I did have a--oof.” She broke off with a short heavy cough. “Ach, dangit all.” 

Fret caught Mum’s eyes and she hurried over to the kettle, turning it up to boiling. “Starting with a cold’s no good, now.” 

Monty waved her off. “It’s no cold, just the wet. We got in some fog earlier, got me fierce, it did.” 

“Well then, some tea will sort you right out.” Mum nodded decisively. “What else was it you needed?” 

Monty pointed at Argyle and Scaevola. “Gramps has it figured out. See?” 

Argyle managed to coax Scaevola into handing over his branch. He held it up for Mum to inspect. 

Mum crouched to get a better look. “Oh, oh. That isn’t very good, dear. You want me to fix it?” 

Monty nodded, suddenly nervous. “Ye can, right?” 

“Of course.” Mum took it and ruffled Monty’s hair at her sigh of relief. “It’ll be just like mending Roisin’s twigs after that windstorm last week. I think I still have… Ah, yes.” 

She found the packet of powder in its drawer and poured a second cup of hot water for it, setting Monty’s tea steeping in one and mixing the sweet-sharp stuff into the other. “You did very good in binding it like this,” she said, approving. “It’ll just need a soak. Very good in picking a Grookey, really. They can make plants grow, so your little one should be fine making this mend with just a little help.” 

Monty wrinkled her nose as the powder turned the mix green. “Glad he don’t have to drink that.” 

Scaevola sneezed. He sure agreed. 

Mumsie laughed. “Just let it steep while you drink your tea. Give it… say, an hour? You can rest a while, show him your room and all.” 

Monty smiled, resigned a little, but happier still, and scooped Scaevola up with one arm. Argyle helpfully grabbed the teacup and followed her upstairs as Mum went back to her cleaning. 

They all sat together at Monty’s desk, watching the wind toss clouds. 

“Well,” Monty sighed, “there ye have the truth of it, Scaevola.” She patted her collarbone and sipped at her tea again. “Sickly little trainer ye got yourself.” 

Scaevola watched her, calm and quiet. 

Monty met his eyes over her mug’s rim. “You… get it, don’t you? Not just me.” 

Scaevola churred and touched her hand. 

“Ahh…” Monty set her mug back down. “So, so. We’re the wind-whipped branch. We’re both the wind-whipped branch, ye see? Ye do, I know it.” She gently took his branch. “We’re broken.” 

Scaevola patted her fingers again and tugged a little at the makeshift splint. 

Monty smiled. “That’s right. But I lean on you, you lean on me, we’ll both stand tall.” She held out a hand. “Well now, what say ye?” 

Scaevola pressed his palm to hers and purred and purred. 

[shen-gong-oops]

sick of seeing ghosts

The anomaly shows you what you desire and what you fear most. Or the one where Bellamy is really tired of losing the people he loves.

this picks up right at the end of season six so spoilers guys

@bellarkebingo

read on ao3

Clumsily dropping to the ground, Bellamy stretched his leg out in a vain attempt to soothe his aching thigh. A small dark patch began to form in the fabric. Groaning he let his head fall back against a nearby tree. He reopened the stitches in his haste to search the woods. Maybe he should have listened when Gabriel said it was useless. His voice wouldn’t be hoarse, his feet wouldn’t be throbbing, and he wouldn’t have blood on his pants - actual that last one was most likely a lie. He probably already had blood on his pants from everything that went down during the adjustment protocol. Bellamy let out a second groan, hands coming up to cover his face. For the first time in six years - no 131 years, his family had been together and safe but no. He had to agree to follow Gabriel to the anomaly. He should have stayed in Sanctum. Octavia should have stayed in Sanctum. Not like they even knew what the anomaly even was! Right as they were on starting to mend, for everything. For the situation Aurora forced them into for fifteen years; for the months on the ground learning to survive; for the years they were apart. They were finally beginning to be the siblings they should have been all along. She was his sister, but no longer his responsibility. Not saying it would be perfect, they always clashed heads, but they were starting over. Then Octavia gets ripped away.

He was getting real tired of this shit

The tree Bellamy was leaning on began to shift and he immediately shifted away. Right, even the trees were homicidal here. So much for a sanctuary.

Getting up to return to Gabriel’s tent was harder than he expected. Slowly, Bellamy rose to his feet but he took at most ten steps before collapsing. Drained emotionally, physically, and mentally of any fight he had left in him, Bellamy rolled over to stare up at the stars.

Real tired.

As the suns began their descent, the green tint to the air started to intensify. The anomaly making its mysterious presence known. Bellamy was in its territory, he was at its mercy. Just like how he was at the mercy of the murderous trees. He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would over take him but instead he was thrust back into the rocket. His hands shaking at his side, his eyes locked on the entrance to Becca’s lab. He could hear a heart pounding, the sound echoing around the clearing. He could hear Raven’s voice off behind him the radiation was effecting the rocket. They needed to leave. He knew his decision was the right one in the end but didn’t make it hurt any less. They all would have died if they waited.

Opening his eyes, Bellamy hoped the image would dissolve as it did every time he startled awake. Sometimes it was the faces of those on the Ark that woke him. Or those in the Grounder village from his stint with Pike. Usually, he saw the faces of those they failed to protect in Mount Weather. But these few minutes always found their way into his sleep. The few minutes where he left her to die.

As the blast doors inched closed they framed the door that wouldn’t open.

“Please stop.” His whisper hoarse, “Please.” The vision shifted, as the Bellamy who made it to the Ring turned to face the rocket. To climb the ladder. His friends voices mixed in but he couldn’t make out the words. Not that he didn’t to, he knew what was side. He remembered the broken look in Harper’s eyes as she asked if Clarke wasn’t coming. The moment when he closed the hatch door. His own voice mixed in with the heart-wrenching symphony he was forced to relive; desperate for Clarke to stumble through the doors. May we meet again.

Suddenly, he was starting out into the darkened woods.

“Sanctum sucks.” Bellamy grumbled, turning into his side. Earth and Sanctum were both supposed to be better than the Ark. Even if their reasons for coming to earth in the first place didn’t seem better. They may have been sent down to die but their final journey to the ground, at least in his imagination, was supposed to be freeing. No more starving on half rations, no more adhering to laws favoring Alpha station, no more living in fear, and most of all no more hiding Octavia. Then Sanctum was supposed to be their second chance, their shot to do better. For Monty and for Harper. But then Russell had to go and attempt murder.

Real fucking tired.

A breeze racked through the trees, leaves whispering taunts at him. Every time he got a member of his family back another was torn from him. If the trees could do him a favor and root him that would be highly appreciated.

Off in the distance, someone spoke. What they said or who was saying could not be made out. Just quiet murmurs. Octavia? He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes darting between the trees trying to make out any movement. The homicidal trees stood dormant. There was no rushing of foliage, no footsteps, nothing to announce someone was coming towards him.

The voice became louder and louder but still warped as if forcing its way through a filter. As the voice babbled on, Bellamy shot up. “Clarke?”

She wasn’t out here. She stayed in Sanctum. She needed to be with Madi as she was mourned for the mother she had to float, not wandering aimlessly in these murder woods at night. He opened his mouth to tell her she should have stayed in Sanctum, when Clarke’s voice surrounded him, saying multiple things at once.

Bellamy, if you can hear me. What becomes of the Commander of Death when there’s no one left to kill? Tell Raven to aim for the one spot of green, and you’ll find me. They’re not very sweet, but they’re beautiful. I think that’s what they used to make the paint for.

He really hated Sanctum.

“Someone’s being dramatic.” Twisting his torso to gaze behind him, Bellamy Blake came face-to-face with one Clarke Griffin. The green air swirled densely around her. As she shifted to get comfortable on the large, unearthed root, the moonlight she basked in refracted.

“You’re not really here.” He inched himself around, to be able to look at the manifestation of Clarke easier. “You’re part of the anomaly.”

This fake version of Clarke had the same chopped blonde hair; all scrunched up and messy. She had shed the cloak worn by his Clarke to disguise herself as Josephine, leaving her arms bare in a blank tank top. Her eyes, those damned blue eyes. She simply shrugged, closing said damned blue eyes.

Silently, the pair sat engrossed in the cacophony of multiple Clarke’s talking over the other. “If you listened to each one in succession, you’d be here for too long.” The manifestation opened it’s eyes, gazing out towards where the two suns had set, “Too long Bellamy.”

Were these the calls she made while left on earth? He strained to make out anything specific but each call blended into the other, making each individual stream of consciousness indistinguishable. There were a few words here and there that rang out clear: Madi, bunker, rover, Bellamy. But in this chaos of past one-sided conversations was Clarke’s life for six years. Her story of survival. Even though he couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, he could feel it. The air shifted; became heavier, became chillier. It pressed down on his chest and bit at his skin. It tried to pull the oxygen from his lungs. Gasping, he tried to regain his breath but he couldn’t. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Was this how he’d go? After watching his mother float, after losing Clarke twice, after Octavia faded away in his arms - it was his turn. Almost immediately, the pressure in the air lightened. Enclosing him in its warmth. He felt - happy? No, that wasn’t the right word. Calm? Maybe. In a blink, an image of him desperately clinging to Clarke in Gabriel’s tent flashed behind his eyelids. He relived the relief that washed over him he never thought he’d experience at hearing someone cough. Knowing she was breathing.

Alive, he felt alive. The calls were Clarke knowing she’d persevere.

His name was repeated over and over, felt like near every call had his name in it at least once.  “You called me every day for six years,” he knew this wasn’t Clarke. He knew this wasn’t real but seeing her, being here in these woods he needed to say something, “and left me to die in the fighting pits.” Tears welled in the corners of Clarke’s damned eyes. She tried to stammer out an explanation for the pit but he cut her off. This wasn’t Clarke. It was a cruel joke played by whatever the hell the anomaly was. The manifestation looked so much like her and for the first time since Clarke’s heart restarted, he couldn’t look at her. He looked beyond into the tree line.“And I left you to die in a radiation storm.”

Josephine was right, it was exhausting. No matter what apologizes he gave he could never make up for that lost time.

Clarke’s answer doesn’t come from the manifestation but from the raucous calls echoing about the clearing. All but one muted to a low murmur. Please don’t feel bad about leaving me here. You did what you had to do. I’m proud of you. She may not have blamed him but he sure as hell did. He knew leaving was the reasonable option. If he waited any longer the seven of them would have died right there in the cockpit of the rocket. And unlike Clarke, the didn’t possess nightblood to help thwart off the radiation poisoning. The seven of them would have ended up like Shaw. Logically, it was the right decision. Didn’t make it hurt any less.

The carbon copy of Clarke climbed down from her perch on the root to sit beside him. She brushed the tips of her fingers along his forehead, gently pushing stray curls aside. He and Clarke were tactile people and while he knew the fingers that graced his skin weren’t actually hers, he needed the comfort of someone’s touch. “You’re a good man Bellamy Blake. Even if you don’t see it. You’ll find O.”

What if he didn’t? Diyoza’s daughter Hope stabbed Octavia in the abdomen before she dissolved into a could of green smoke. How was he supposed to save her?

“Next time one of us dies, it’s going to be me.” His dark eyes never leave her glassy blue ones. Watching as they crinkle in the corner as she smiles wryly. He sucks in a breath before continuing on. “I’ve lost you twice- I’ve mourned you twice. I can’t do that a third time.” He couldn’t lose her again. He refused to lose her in Gabriel’s tent. He meant it when he said he needed her. He lived six years on the Ring without her. He knew what is was like to live without Clarke and he never wanted to do that again.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” The manifestation said in jest, “We don’t have much of a say in the order we die.” She gave a him a small smile, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Real positive, I know.”

He could feel something slowly inching across his ankle. Whatever it was scrapped its way over the skin, contrasting Clarke’s feather-light touch. Her eyes darted down quickly before she gripped onto his hand. Her touch was neither warm nor cold, but her presence filled the space between them.  "I called you for 2,199 days and each day I had to believe you were alive on the Ring.“ He really hated the anomaly. "You need to get up. Find Gabriel, find Echo, hell run to Sanctum. Please just get up Bellamy.” The manifestation dissipated into the air leaving Bellamy alone once more among the trees.

Or at least he thought he was alone. “Visions from the anomaly are fun, are they not?” Gabriel’s voice drawled out behind him. The fingers of other male’s left hand danced across the blade of the dagger Gabriel gripped in his right. “Who needs red sun toxin when you could see what you desire and what you fear most simultaneously.” As he walked around to face Bellamy, Gabriel dropped the dagger into the dirt beside Bellamy’s ankle. A root from one of the trees had made it’s home wrapped around the skin of Bellamy’s ankle. The dagger a silent warning to cut it now before more spread.

As Bellamy worked his way through the root, Gabriel rambled on, “For me, Josephine was both. The woman I loved for centuries and the woman who I should have stopped. Instead I ran, stayed out here while she grew callous. While she enacted oblation for null infants.” Gabriel stopped where he was, gazed out into the night before quickly averting his attention away. “Maybe I’m a masochist but I would come out here for decades just to see her. The anomaly creates another Josephine Ada Lightbourne. Thinks like her, acts like her, looks like her. In every way, except one, I was with Josephine again and for a brief moment the past two hundred some odd years didn’t exist.” Gabriel’s dark eyes met Bellamy’s, “We could just talk.”

The anomaly shows you what you desire and what you fear most. He saw Clarke. He only saw Clarke. He saw losing her the first time. He briefly saw himself after he did a piss poor job at CPR - beating their chest isn’t idle when resuscitating someone. He saw her. Standing to his feet slowly, Bellamy gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the other. Sanctum was too far to reach at this hour and she’d need time to heal but he needed to speak with Clarke. He wouldn’t spend his days speaking into the anomaly’s version of Clarke Griffin. They had a lot to discuss.

“Want to talk about whatever it was you saw? First brush with the anomaly can be altering and it’s a decent walk from here to the tent. When I left, Echo agreed to watch over the girl. We got time.”

This is probably the worst bingo submission you’ll see. I’ve never written for The 100 before. Sorry if this is really bad. Inspired by Gabriel stating that the anomaly shows you what you desire and what you fear most and me not getting to see what Bell saw in the anomaly. That and, “You called me every day for six years and you left me to die in the fighting pits.“ I took a lot of liberties since we know very little about the anomaly. Sorry that there’s no real discussion about the calls, it’s more Bellamy understanding Clarke while she made the radio calls. Hopefully that makes sense.

[draculaspetbee]

Hey ya’ll. No one has really asked for this, but I wanted to put it our here in the universe. This is a small fic for my DnD character, Jesse. He’s a tiefling bard, who’s just trying to do his best. It’s the story of how he met his adoptive daughter. I’m going to put it here under the break. The picture here is done by @zal-art for commission, and I love it! Go check him out!!

So real quick, warnings. Off screen death, umm weird like power shit, kidnapping, abusive parents, there’s a snake. 

Also, Jesse is an original character by me, but Faye was made by my DM Josh. He used a picture made by aditya777 on DeviantArt called The Ancient for her. So, all credit goes to them for that, it is an amazing piece, everyone go check it out!

If you want to leave a like review or something, pm me! This was just a one shot to type out my feelings about my boy. 

He woke on the ground the stones biting into his back. It had been a long time since he’d had to sleep on the ground with nothing separating him and the earth. Jesse didn’t choose this adventure, he had only been sent to spy on the Red Hand when Diggler found about them. They had found him, and taken him hostage, him and the other two. He shot them a look. Seamus was on watch, making sure they were safe for a few hours, and Anna had her back turned on them, as usual. It was weird to think that they had only been together for a little while now, a few months at the most. The fire light lit the small clearing that they had set up shop in. Jesse felt the pull of sleep drawing him in again, tugging insistently. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought of Seamus going through this shift alone, but it was not enough to keep him awake.

The next time he woke, the birds were chirping in the trees. He sleepily looked around, trying to rub off some of the lingering sleep still in his eyes. Anna was motionless, back still turned, while Seamus looked on. She must have slept through her shift again. Jesse gathered all of his things, he kept them in a bag tucked tight to his body as he slept, and he started making breakfast. Seamus nodded at him, acknowledging that they would let Anna sleep a little longer. The two of them silently worked around the camp, cleaning it up, getting ready to move on.

Jesse had long ago resigned himself to the fact that no one in his party spoke much. Seamus was much too serious to have a lighthearted conversation, and Anna held her secrets close to her chest. Jesse desperately needed someone to talk to so instead he simply wrote in his journal the things they had encountered along the way. At some point, Seamus decided that Anna needed to be woken. Jesse looked up from the pan as she slowly glared around to the two of them. She always looked so startled when she woke, like the world had done her a disservice by allowing her to live through the night. He nodded at her look at him. No one mentioned the fact that she had slept through her shift again. She kind of scared Jesse, and Seamus was too polite to say anything to her. She did not care about anyone, granted neither did Jesse, but she was different. She did not care about anyone in the way that killed others. Jesse did not care in the way that put him out of the trajectory of others entirely.

“Which way are we going now?” His voice rattled himself and a few birds in the trees. It was clear that none of them were used to speaking out loud anymore. He felt it almost unsacred to continue to talk in this hushed forest.

“I think we should continue south, we need to get as far away from the caravan as possible. If we keep to the outskirts of civilization maybe we can make it to Port Maverick.” Seamus’ voice seemed more suited to the woods than his, it was gravelly, and low enough to not set off the wildlife in the forest.

Jesse nodded, and looked to Anna for confirmation. She simply stood and began packing her things. She seemed a bit off since the woodsman incident. Jesse had so wanted to believe that man was going to help them, but he was not surprised when they had to flee once again. It had been one disappointment after another on this trip, as humanity seemed to be set against them. Anna had had to burn the man's house down in order to stop him from shooting them in the back as they ran, but Jesse thought he had seen a gleam of joy in her eyes as she did it. He had not said anything, but the worry was beginning to eat away at him. Who was she, and what was she capable of?

Soon they had set off, packs thumping against their backs as they walked. Jesse rejoiced in the weight he felt on his shoulders, it represented the items he carried, the most he had ever owned in his life. About ten minutes in they were back on the main path, dirt crunching under their boots. Jesse felt a wet nose hit the back of his knee. Startled he looked down and saw Dogmeat, Seamus’ dog. He grinned and gave the great drooling thing a scratch behind the ears as they walked. It had been too long since Seamus had released Dogmeat back into their group, he needed to stretch his legs every so often.

From what Seamus had said last night, they were about half a day away from the nearest town. They had agreed to stay out of trouble, keep their noses clean, and keep trekking. Jesse allowed his mind to wander as they continued on, every once in a while twirling his staff around in his hands.

“Halt!” The word rang out through the forest, a flock of birds taking off from the trees at the sudden loudness.

It was a testament at how bad their trip had been that all three immediately put their hands on their weapons. They were better off prepared than sorry. A man jumped out from behind a bush onto the road in front of them, rapier drawn. He was dressed in leathers, a smirk played over his face.

“I am going to need you three to come with me. My friends are waiting in the woods,” here he jerked his head back towards where he had leaped, “and they will be very interested in what I have found here.”

The way he spoke made Jesse’s hairs prickle. He was forcibly reminded of the man who used to take the other orphans off the street with a promise of a hot meal, only to disappear them completely. His eyes searched over the man and he spotted a metal poker sticking out from his belt. His heart sank into his knees. It was the same kind the Red Hand had used to brand their captives, marking them as their property.

“I don’t think so.” Seamus’ rough voice rang out, and he swiftly pulled his greatsword from its scabbard. At this two more men leaped from the bushes, wiping out all advantages his small group may have had against the men.

Without thinking Jesse slammed his staff onto the ground, and a massive python exploded from where it hit the dirt. Monty, Jesse’s magic python, curled in front of the group, shielding them from the aggressors. The three men’s eyes bulged with shock as Monty’s tongue flicked out to taste the air. Next to him Anna lit her hands on fire. He could feel the heat pulsing through his shirt. Monty primed himself to strike, and Jesse threw his hand out to stop him. He would much rather let the men strike first, and then defend themselves. Suddenly Anna struck, surprising everyone on the road. Even Monty looked shocked. But he recovered the quickest and grappelled the leader. Jesse followed his python, hacking at the man Monty held with his longsword. His companions made quick work of the other two, and as they fell the man cried out.

“I surrender! I surrender!” he choked from the thick ropes that were Monty. Jesse stepped down, panting slightly from the effort of the attack. Seamus and Anna came up next to him, Seamus cleaning his sword, Anna with hands still aflame.

“I think we should kill him” she said, eyeing the man still struggling with Monty.

“I don’t think I can kill anyone else today” Jesse muttered, looking over at Seamus. He was the moral compass of the company.

“We need to keep him alive, I won’t kill anyone in cold blood. He’s restrained now, we will deal with him later.”

Anna scoffed, but turned her attention to the woods, scanning it for more men.

“I think I see smoke over there.” And with that Anna took off into the woods, Jesse and Seamus following behind, Monty dragging the captive, Dogmeat brought up the end. They were quite the odd parade Jesse had to admit. When they caught up with Anna she was already going through the villains things.

“I’m going to see if they have any weapons in the tents. Want to join me?” Jesse looked at Seamus, who waved a hand, waiting for Jesse to take the lead. There was not much left, it was obvious the the men were travelling for a while before their group had interrupted their travel. They had ragged sleeping bags, small rations, and a few daggers. The only thing that caught Jesse’s eye was a large wooden chest sitting in the corner of the tent.

“Is it magic?”.

“No, but it’s locked”

There was no good reason to have a huge heavy chest in the middle of the forest. The men were too poor to have anything of value to store in a chest. Jesse idly wondered what could be in it. He was embarrassed to say it took him a few times with his thieves tools to pick the lock on the chest itself. If his mentor Stitch were there to see him struggle he’d make Jesse redo this lock until his fingers bled. What use is a thief if he can’t even pick a simple padlock? Finally the lock fell off and hit the ground with a thud, and Jesse put his things back in his bag. He reached out to open the lid, but hesitated as the lid slowly lifted of its own accord. The breathe caught in his chest as he saw two glowing eyes peak over the side locking with his own.

“Seamus? Come look at this.” Jesse sat down hard on the floor of the tent, never breaking contact with the eyes inside of the chest. Trembling, he reached out his hands to open the chest more, and the lid slammed down as the thing inside got spooked at the sudden movement. He could feel Seamus’ eyes on the back of his neck, as he opened the lid fully.

Inside was a small person, curled up at the bottom of the trunk. His eyes were able to adjust quickly due to his demonic family, and the person came into view. He thought they may be female, with uncertain eyes and a quivering bottom lip. He became acutely aware that whoever this was, they were a child. She had a desperation in her eyes, like an animal trapped in a corner. Her eyes were bright despite the darkness, reminding Jesse of his own. She had bright gold horns, spiralling upwards. Gold indicated a fae parentage. That threw him, he had never heard of fae and demon mixing before.

“We won’t harm you. We’re here to help.” Jesse said, slowly and in Elvish. She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing at him. She didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t blame her. When he was living on the streets he didn’t trust anyone aside from himself.

“Do you want to come out of there?” Jesse asked, again in Elvish. Her eyes went wide, and she slowly nodded. He reached out his hand, still shaking a bit from the shock of finding a child in a box, and helped her up out of her prison. He picked her up, she was so small against his body. He realized then she couldn’t be more than six or seven years old. Jesse gently set her down, but had to swoop back in as her knees buckled like a newborn fawn. She must have been in that chest for so long. For a moment he saw red. How dare they keep a child locked away like this. His earlier hesitation when it came to violence was thrown out. He and Seamus made eye contact, as he slowly helped her walk out of the tent into the fresh air.

Together they walked over to the fire, still burning in the middle of the camp. He gently set her down on a log, letting her get adjusted to the outside world. He’d been playing it cool up until now, tamping down on the anger he felt in order not to spook her again. But now that she was safely set down, Jesse balled his fists and advanced on the man they had still constricted in Monty’s coils. The man refused to look him in the eye as he stormed over, which was fine with him. He swung hard, hitting the man across the face.

“Who do you think you are? How dare you harm a child!” Jesse was shaking all over, his anger sweeping over him. He pulled back again to punch the man but his fist was caught before he could let it fly.

“Not here, she’s watching.” Seamus whispered. Jesse swung around and saw the girl staring at him, eyes wide with shock. Jesse gave him a nod, and the group of them went further into the woods where they couldn’t be seen.

“What do you think you’re doing, keeping a girl locked up in a trunk?” Jesse didn’t even realize he was yelling until his voice broke.

The man looked up at him, eye already swelling up from the hit he had taken.

“She’s just a girl. We were going to get rid of her in the next town. She was given to us by her family, it’s no big deal.” Jesse’s stomach turned over at the words.

“Monty, have at him.” Jesse turned his back on his python, allowing him to finish off the man in his grasp. Jesse immediately felt guilty, but pushed it down deep. He and Seamus walked back silently to the camp, ignoring the sounds coming from behind them.

Jesse walked straight back to the girl, and squatted in front of her. He knew that she was probably scared, every adult in her life had betrayed her up to this point, and he needed to tread carefully.

“We are going to move on, would you like to travel with us?” He cocked his head to the side, and kept his body language open trying to convey that he was trustworthy. She looked around to the other two, who had been watching Jesse. He ignored them, keeping his concentration on the girl.

She looked up at him, and nodded solemnly. Jesse breathed a sigh of relief, he found himself rather attached to this child already. She reminded him of himself as a child, young, scared, and betrayed by everyone she knew. The group gathered their things as Jesse went around making a small pack for the girl. He handed her a bag stuffed with a blanket and some food and they set off with one more person in their party.

[sometimesrosy]

The Silence

a drabble. because someone asked me what I thought the reunion might be like and I started thinking (and avoiding my other work). 

read on AO3

Clarke and Madi had been staking out the Eligius, hiding in trees like the grounders used to do when the dropship first came down. They kept a notebook on the settlement. One hundred of them were there. Seventy five prisoners and twenty five crew members. None of them knew anything about living on the ground or surviving in the wilderness.

Madi was laughing about their clumsiness on the ground on the way back to camp when they heard a noise in the woods.

They were instantly alert. “The Eligius?” Madi asked, although they had all been accounted for in the camp surrounding their ship when they’d left. The Eligius folk didn’t like to wander at night, and the sun was setting. The animals scared them.

“Couldn’t be,” she said. Maybe it was one of the animals.

It wasn’t the animals. A man came out of the trees. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. A beard. He was dressed in black and boots. He saw her and stopped.

Bellamy.

Behind him, the rest filtered into the clearing. Raven, Murphy, Monty, Harper, Emori and Echo.

Madi raised her gun but Clarke put a hand on her arm. “It’s them. They’re here.” Madi lowered her gun.

“Clarke?” Raven said, incredulous.

Her voice sounded so great. Clarke laughed, tears rising in her throat. “Yeah.”

“You’re alive?” That was Monty. “How?”

“What do you mean, how? Of course she’s alive. She’s Clarke.” It was Murphy’s words that broke the stasis.

“Clarke!” Harper cried, and then all of a sudden they were on her. Hugging her.  

“Raven! I’’d like to stay breathing. You don’ have to squeeze me so tight.” Raven pulled back. “I can’t believe it.”

Monty hugged her, with a huge smile. “It’s so good to see you. We missed you.” Then Harper. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” with tears in her eyes.

But then Murphy lifted her up off her feet. “Nothing can ever stop you. I should have known. Not even the end of the world.”

Emori joined him. “I did know. I told you. I told you she would. None of you ever believed me. I knew you were alive. That’s who you are.”

When they were done, Echo came up to her and clasped her arm in hers. “Thank you.”

Clarke was shocked. “Thank me? For what?”

“For everything. For turning on the Ark and making it so we could survive. Thank you for my life. Thank you for a new life. Thank you.”

Clarke shifted her gun strap on her shoulder and shook her head. “I don’t want thanks.” She looked up. Bellamy was still standing where she’d first seen him. Staring. Wordless. Her heart ached to see him, so close and so far away. “It was my mission.”

He made a noise. But didn’t say anything.

“Uhm, so. This is Madi. She’s my daughter.”

Madi looked around at them. Clarke had thought she’d be nervous, but she didn’t look nervous at all.

“Uh, did time start working differently down here? Or does radiation make people grow faster? We weren’t gone that long,” Murphy said.

“I found her. About 5 years ago. She’s a nightblood.”

“So it worked,” Raven said, coming in to hug her again.

“It worked. For both of us. But it was hard at first.”

“We’re bad asses. We can take it,” Madi said, and grinned. “Come on, I’ll take you back to our camp. We have a place set up for you already.”

“You knew we were coming?” Emori asked, eyes wide.

Clarke shook her head, feeling nervous. So nervous. Bellamy stared at her. “I was always planning for you to come home. I’ve been preparing…”

Raven’s face fell. “For a year.”

Madi laughed. “For four years. Since we found this valley. Everything has been about when you came home. We wanted to make a place for everyone.”

They all fell silent then. Clarke laughed. Awkwardly. He was still staring. He hadn’t said a word. “It’s just over the rise,” she said. And gestured. They looked off in that direction. Except for Bellamy, he still stared.

“I’ll show you,” Madi said. So excited. She had always said she wanted to show them around. She chattered and led them off. Bellamy stared.

Clarke’s mouth was dry. She walked up to him. “You’re late,” she said, not knowing what else to say. Why he was so silent. Why she felt like her heart was breaking at his silence.

All he did was gasp, like he was in pain.

She took a step towards him. She wanted to drink him in. He was pale, and thinner, and his hair was longer, with a shaggy beard. His eyes roved over her face. Like he wanted to drink her in too.

“Bellamy?” she said, quiet. Afraid.

Then he let out his breath and touched her cheek, cupping it in his palm, brushing her hair back from her face, running his thumb over her cheekbone. His eyes were warm, and brown. She remembered his eyes. How they made her feel. They still made her feel like that, like she was home.

He kissed her. It wasn’t tentative. It was sure, and strong, his lips warm and full under hers. She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer. He kissed her harder, swallowed 6 years of her loneliness. Fed her something that felt like love, felt like what she had been longing for all his time.

Bellamy. She didn’t want to let him go. But the kiss had to end. She pulled back, gasping, and his fingers were still tangled in her hair, his hips still pressed up against hers. His heart still beating in time with hers.

“I’m here now,” He said,  “I’m not leaving you again.”

[spacekru-sass]

The Ice King's Queen (part 2)

Part 1    Part 3

Tag List: @lovelynerdytraveler @mischievousweasleys

She only got one or two cheers out as Jasper made it to the other side of the river before he got a spear through the chest. She screamed loudly, unable to help the audible noise that escaped her throat as they ducked for cover and when they glanced back, he was gone. “Jasper, no,” she whispered. She was yanked to her feet, but the audible thumping of her heart was the only thing she could hear.

The muffled voices around her sounded like they were coming through a tube from far away and the only thing she knew was that her breathing was ragged, her fingertips were tingling and she felt like she was going to be sick. She hadn’t let go of Octavia’s hand the whole way back to the dropship and when she caught sight of Bellamy, her breath was completely gone.

“Help Octavia,” she mumbled as the rest of them came in behind her and he rushed to Octavia’s side, lifting her over the log easily.

“Where the hell is our food?”  he grumbled, looking over at Avie.

“We were attacked. We aren’t the only people here,” Finn announced, walking over to Avie and placing his hand on her cheek to check on her. She took a deep breath and finally, the color came back to her face. Bellamy noticed.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled.

Clarke talked and people began to listen. She explained Jasper’s situation before noticing that Wells’ wristband had gone missing. “Where is your wristband?”

“Ask him,” he nodded to Bellamy and Avie stood up.

“You’re all idiots,” she bellowed and Murphy began to tell her to shut up but she turned around and swiftly socked him in the nose. Blood gushed down his shirt. “We have to stop meeting like this Murphy,” she rolled her eyes before turning back to the group while Clarke explained the situation of the Ark.

“We’re stronger than you think. Don’t listen to her. She’s one of the privileged. If they come down, she’ll have it good. How many of you can say the same? We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore! They say they’ll forgive your crimes. I say you’re not criminals! You’re fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!” Bellamy circled the group.

“Funny coming from someone who used to befriend the privileged,” Avie grumbled as she knocked her shoulder to his in passing. He grabbed her metal covered wrist and turned her around.

“Hummingbird, I-,”

“I think you’ve lost the right to call me that Bellamy Blake,” she scoffed and torn her wrist from his grasp. “I don’t even know you anymore. It’s funny considering the circumstance you’ve put me in.” She sidestepped him and moved toward the group gathering by the dropship.

“We’re going after Jasper, yeah?” Clarke nodded.

“We’re going to need more supplies for him, I’m gunna salvage the dropship,” Clarke told her, “Try to find some volunteers?” Avie nodded and moved toward groups of people to see if anyone would go but no one stepped forward.

She noticed Octavia hissing on a log as she touched her leg in pain. She moved forward and knelt down in front of her. “Let me help,” she hummed as she pulled a makeshift canteen of water she’d grabbed from the river and pulled another strand of cloth from her shirt. She poured the water on the material and began to dab at Octavia’s wound.

“I can do that,” his deep voice sounded strained and as she turned around to face him, Bellamy looked as troubled as he sounded. She took a moment before handing him the cloth and standing.

“God, it’s almost like the two of you haven’t seen each other in over a year,” Octavia commented as the awkward silence encased them. Bellamy and Avie both glanced up at her silently, their eyes screamed for her to be quiet.

“Listen, the two of you practically raised me together. Can mom and dad stop fighting?” she joked further and Avie took a glance at Bellamy who couldn’t help but crack a smile before they both let out a small chuckle. Clarke walked up behind them and Octavia tried to stand to join them in saving Jasper.

“No, no. You need to rest your leg,” Avie told her gently and Bellamy agreed.

“I’m actually here for you,” Clarke’s eyes wandered to Bellamy’s. “I heard you have a gun.” She said and he lifted his shirt to reveal the pistol tucked in his hip. “Great, follow me,” Clarke said and then they were off. Bellamy glanced back at Octavia and it was clear to Avie that he didn’t want to leave his sister.

“Go, you’re useful to them. I’ll keep an eye on O,” Avie offered and Bellamy hesitated before he stepped away and pecked Octavia on the forehead. His attention turned to Avie for a moment and she believed he may try to kiss her forehead as well. She didn’t know how she would feel. But he decided against it and turned away to follow Clarke and Wells back into the thick of the woods.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” O stated.

“Think of it as catching up.”

“So, I never knew what happened after they took me into the custody,” Octavia stated as they sat on a few chairs that had been ripped from the interior of the dropship. Avie was drawing circles in the dirt with a stick as she smiled up at Octavia.

“After you were taken into custody, Bellamy and I were taken into questioning. I made a plea with the guards that I would tell them where they could find some hidden relics that had gone missing in exchange for Bellamy’s freedom. They took my deal,” she confirmed and shrugged.

“So Bellamy just got demoted and you went into the SkyBox? Why would you do that? I know he’s my brother but that’s-,”

“Bellamy was over the age of eighteen. If they had arrested him, he wouldn’t have come to the SkyBox. They would’ve floated him and I couldn’t let that happen,” Avie explained nonchalantly. Octavia stared at her for a few moments, taking in the way her eyebrows raised and her hands shook slightly when she spoke about her brother.

“But you-,”

“The only family I had left was the two of you, I would’ve given my life,” she noticed one of Bellamy’s guys Atom. He continued to stare at Octavia and she giggled. “I think you’ve got a secret admirer.” Octavia turned around and glanced at Atom.

“Go have some fun,” Avie said and leaned back in the chair. “I’ll cover for you.” The two disappeared into the dropship.

When Jasper was returned to the dropship, Avie found herself sitting across from Atom and Octavia. She stood quickly and moved to help Clarke and Monty treat his wounds while Bellamy cooked some food. Inside the dropship, she dipped water into a bucket and wiped away some of the blood from Jasper’s face.

After an hour of helping Clarke dress his wounds, she nodded to the girl in the baseball cap.. “You should take a break and get some fresh air. I can take it from here,” she told Avie who nodded with hooded eyes, tired from the long day. Their first two days.

“Thank you,” she whispered and headed down the ladder to get some air and maybe some food. But when she stepped forward to grab a skewer, Murphy pushed her back harshly. She stumbled on her feet, dizzy from hunger and exhaustion.

“Food only goes to those who work for it sweet cheeks,” he cackled and pushed her again. She fell backward, unable to catch herself. The muddle caught her fall and those around laughed.

“Murphy, that’s enough,” Bellamy’s voice echoed and she turned to see him holding a hand out for her but she slapped it away.

“I don’t need your handout,” she rasped and pushed herself up, flinging the mud from her arms. She stepped past him to Murphy and held her arm out in surrender. “You want it? Take it,” Avie’s eyes narrowed and Murphy smirked.

“Avie, you don’t need to do this,” Bellamy said from behind her. She didn’t listen as Murphy popped the metal off her wrist and threw it in the pile of expired bands. He handed her the skewer she’d went for before and she turned to face Bellamy.

“I have nothing to lose.”